There lives in the everyday
On a Wednesday late morning sidewalk
Of grimy city and in the small town
In the overcast of pregnant skies

Just plain folks
Blind enough of their own ego
To wear an immunity of self like a concrete saint

You see them in timeless pause
And watch in awe and ache
As blue and grey birds
With eyes as cloudy as your skies
Rest peacefully on their fingertips
Nurturing fat bellies with morsels of a sacred stillness

No one, no one here, no one there, ever.
Uncared for, it felt dark and misty.
All alone, aside seven billion souls.
Needed only when needed, a solitude.
Ring-fenced in an imaginary world of love.
No escape for me to my reality, it hurts.
Kept knocking on the walls, for affection.
Wisely I tethered on, purposely off,  living in a solstice of dream.

I never understood  poetry,
And had no time to write a line of it,
But, Your betrayal darkened my soul,
And threw me into the realms of poets.
1/7/2020

You forget there's a sky above
Birds don't chirp trees are few
Gone is the hamlet that shaped your love
For a blade of grass cries the morn dew.

Mesh of wires runs over the sky
Air is thick with the reek of petrol
Scare you the trucks heavily passing by
Dazedly you search for the village of the ole.

Here was the home your soul's green abode
Where winter was cold March sprightly Spring
Your feet ran the soil not dusty metaled road
Dreams soared high on boundless wide wing.

Now all around are the townsfolk on race
Ruthless pace crushing ole hamlet's peace
But so is fated by the wheels of progress
That shows the gain more than all that you miss.

Barring a robin
nothing sacred
at the vacant church

- fr

I have no words to write
     Just tears to cry
.
.
.
.
.
Sadness
.
.
I have been alone
      I forgot what it feels like to be around people.