Six hours of sleep is necessary
But it's terrifying to stay on this planet for the rest eighteen
So I doze off
In the corners of streets I'm walking on
I don't really notice the broken buildings or the lighted shops people rush in and out of
I watch a movie, starting with a single character
The rest I make in my mind, sleeping, weaving my way through it
Mostly, it's the mullah sucking at his ripe pieces of orange, standing by the street vendor selling it
Or the man who drives a bike, with a woman sitting on one side, a baby in the middle, holding on to a plastic toy
But all this while, my mother tells me a story, and I look at her but she knows I'm not listening
She points it out, annoyed
And I say I'm sorry
But as I get down the rickshaw, she tells me to pay and looks around for the shop she has to go to
I look at the rickshaw, the man who drives it, the family he has to go home to, the children who ask for a candy from him
And I doze off
As he asks me for money.
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This poem won in Instagram Weekly Contest held by @delhipoetryslam on the theme 'Travelling'
Muchas gracias. ?Como puedo iniciar sesion?
Indeed a beautiful perspective.