Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2018
While soaking the February sun in my cold bones, I think of possibilities.

I hear the sparrows chirp on my house's rooftop, but I also worry about the ominous fumes rising from a factory nearby.

This is also an analogy for my life.

I question if my imagination runs a bit too wild or if I trust my ideas too less?

I am unable to feel completely happy, but I cannot sink into sadness just yet.

I wonder what to choose, hope or despair?  

I am hanging somewhere in the middle,
in the web of possibilities, both good and bad.

I am searching for answers to questions that nobody can answer for me.
Sadaf Fatima
Written by
Sadaf Fatima  F/Pakistan
(F/Pakistan)   
  392
   Tori Barnes
Please log in to view and add comments on poems