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Dramatic times. A lot ofthings happening at the same time and I have no time to deal with itall. Well in between I sometime take my pen and write. There are manypoems, here is one of them. Rest of them, you know where they are. I amchanging big time. One change I made a heart breaking one I sold my carthe 1999 VW Beetle my car for seven years. I loved it but it no longerfits me as I cannot carry all my personal belongings in it. You all maylaugh which one I bought. No suspense or riddles. A new Honda OdysseyMini Van. I was looking a big vehicle and it was comfortable and bigenough to take all my things. There are many changes to follow. Waitand see. One thing that will never change me being a poet. Here we go…

hotelrooom

A Look From Outside.

The silky sunlight of the spring morn spread,
Across the horizon and through the window peeped,
A soul without dreams in the peace of sleep,
Now in the warmth and brightness felt disturbed.

Watched DVDs and heard CDs on the floor scattered,
Pages with unfinished verses thrown around,
A half empty mug with English breakfast tea sits,
With half eaten peanut butter, jelly sandwich upon a plate lay,
Waiting to be thrown out and from this half-rotten prison free.

Oh’ in the days that passed, about a normal life he dreamt,
What unfolded before him was the path of a vagabond,
Every aspiration through the fantasy flight took,
And from heights down was thrown,
When upon the broken wings of dreams face down fell,
One more image of a lost cause in memory engraved.

The uniqueness of his self misunderstood,
The aggressive talks and the uncompromising honesty,
Truth of life and love with stubbornness held,
But, unaccepted, isolated and unbearable he became,
In a world where love lost all its meanings to immorality.

Alone, empty and away he walked,
From all that don’t need him,
In through the depths of everything negative he survived,
With a heart, with passions and prayers filled,
But a squeeze inside his chest felt,
Freezing his spirit and flesh in cold,
Every corner of his body through fives senses succumbed,
Into unbearable pain of parting, losing and sadness,
When eyes he looked into did not glitter,
When words he said into the silence of the other vaporized,
And the clutches of loneliness through the soul once more pierced.

Wiping away the drops of tears, he lied down,
The night through every sense crawled in,
Darkness covered piercing every thought darker,
Sleep, the virtual death, consumed,
The subconscious when sadness overwhelmed,
The deeper the sleep became the deeper memory slept,
Erasing the tiny hope of normal life once more,
Mind in deep sleep, blank as the mind of a newborn became.

Now the cold have left the town
The warmth returned with the silky spring morn sun,
Upon his face with the new season’s magic rolled,
Without any memory of the wrongs that happened,
The silky bright spring morn with cheerfulness he faced,
Unknowing once more, for him nothing but the nature changed,
In the wild weird world of humanity.

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM

7 Replies to “”

  1. I’m sorry Riaz, but I’m done with this. You have been one of the nicest people I know on here, but I can’t take guilt trips from a 35 year old whom acts like he’s in middle school. I’ve told you many times that my lack of comments does not mean I don’t read it. It doesn’t mean I’m mad, and it’s doens’t mean ANYTHING what so ever against you. However, if you are going to require me to comment on every post you make just to have you talk to me at all, I don’t want a friendship like that. I was harrassed like that by a 5th grader, and I truly didn’t expect something like that from someone your age. If that’s the way it must be, then that’s the way it will be. But if it is, I am finished.

    Mo cuishle will be gone, but if you ever want my friendship, that will always be there.

  2. Actually, I have gone on your site. I don’t go on it from my own computer, because I often do it at school when I have free time in my computer class. However, that really doens’t matter. I like your friendship Riaz, but if you don’t want it in return, why bother?

    You will be missed. Even if I won’t be in return.

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