By- Hanan Raqayya
You said yesterday,
like a whippoorwill in the depths of a tree branch
whispering in the dark and mumbling my fears
That you know me pretty well
that's why you could read me?
It echoes in my mind…
Is it true? Then why don't I believe you?
Why does every dream I enter,
Become a nightmare of my own?
Why is every conversation just another drawl of words,
like that flame spitting out embers while trying to reach its arms to the sky.
Why is this feeling so foreign
This benign thought, like I'm falling through abyss,
down a cliff
Sailing through a sea,
a treacherous one!
All the while
when I'm of no use to those around me …
Wishing, Hoping, praying that this will take me home
Finally when the stars go to sleep under a pile of broken wishes
and a once beautiful but dead and regretful lives.
I will get my meadow of sunflowers
holding full blooms some holding buds, looking, feeling divine in the sunlit sky.
I will run I will fall and then get up,
and when that sand grain hits
the bottom of the glass
will you be there, to see it?
I doubt it.
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This poem has been published in the book 'The Last Flower Of Spring'. Buy the paperback copy on Amazon: https://tinyurl.com/y9sydnxn
For it has always been a dream of mine
to run up those walls that keep me bottled up,
oppressing my cravings
Burying my regrets, in the closet.
For that day, finally and for ever
I will let go.
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This poem has been published in the book 'The Last Flower Of Spring'. Buy the paperback copy on Amazon: https://tinyurl.com/y9sydnxn