Wednesday, June 22, 2016


That was a different life,
Waiting for the pain that never came.
This one is knowing, not wiser,
Richer, yet poorer,
Bristling with forgotten dreams,
That cut your fingers.

Crisply the miasma envelopes you, your regular jailor,
Stomping through his nocturnal rounds.
You look up to the sodium light,
Orange bright,
Your heart says take flight.

A joke, a laugh,
A silly tale, to distract,
Anything will do,
To lighten this shade of deep blue.

You pray for the strength to be yourself,
You pray to hold that precious love close,
You pray for the night to end with chirping birds
You pray for grass and sky to be there in the dawning.

1 comment:

Tanvir Singh said...

Touches the heart. Lot of depth. Amazing.