Jan 2017

He'd count the fish
Swimming in his bathtub,
Drink liquid colors
From his painting cup.
Thought his windscreen wipers
Could wipe the sky,
When rainy days
Would take him off his high.
He'd add more sand
To his hourglass,
When he felt his
Weekends go by fast.
And take one bite from his apples,
Leave then till they went rotten,
His grip on sensibility
Long forgotten.
Mondays, he'd turn off the lights
For the whole day,
Praying he was just inanimate.
The day she went away.
He believed she was the one
Who made all the days restart, 
So he'd walk on cat tails
Aiming to break her heart.

Mona Mohamed
Written by
Mona Mohamed
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