It's six in the bright blue sky
And all around the birds cry
Wishing everyone a good morning
As people gather for work
You see the happiness on their faces
While I am left to wonder
Whether this morning will finally be good
It's nine in the morning
And the sun shines gay
But do I have reason to be really merry
As I talk and laugh with my 'friends'
It's one in the afternoon
And my colleagues all collect together
To share gossips or discuss happenings
But is there anyone to whom I may go-
If not to rant of my miseries
Then at least to have a shoulder?
It's four as the weariness sets in
As people complain of stiffness and aches
But did anyone ask about my heart-
The one that constantly aches?
It's a violet twilight at seven
As they gather up to leave
To meet their loving partners
On such a romantic night
But is there even a soul
Who might care enough to ask
"I wonder how you'll go back tonight?'
(Let alone offer a ride back)
It's a moonless night at ten
Much like the hopeless life of mine
When the others have candle lit dinners
At fine dazzling restaurants
And I am left alone to have a cold meal
Leftover from last night
It's a dark windy midnight at twelve
As I toss restless on my hard bed
While listening to the loud music echoing
From their parties that continue till dawn
While my only companion is
The howling storm within and without
Like a dark expressionless shadow
I flitter from today to tomorrow
A presence which no one questions
An absence that no one notices
I am as evident as the light around
And as unnoticed as the air we breathe
A flickering flame that part lives an dies
But remains burning throughout
Shining in my own small way
But unacknowledged before the flames
~azmina
YOU ARE READING
Of Floating Buoys and Broken Bells
Poetry"Poetry flowed like little rivulets From the ocean that was her soul." ~azmina Our souls dance to the rhythm of poetry. A small collection of my poems that will, hopefully, provide the beats to your dance.
