the soft rustle of the wind
blowing the leaves gently
forming a pile soon, once again.
blades of grass swaying with
rhythm of nature.

four walls, my friend these days
white hospital beds, a cold place.

longing to feel the touch of the w i n d.

it's one of those days
where nothing seems to be going right
and everything is out to get you,
woken up on the wrong side of the bed
and your whole day is off
you feel uncomfortable
but for no particular reason,
you're trapped inside with nothing to do
desperate to socialize
but your mood is contradicting your thoughts
and you get annoyed at the littlest things
but you don't know why
and no matter what you do to fix it
nothing will change
because it's one of those days
and those days never end
while we're stuck inside,
doomed to repeat them again.

the 31st of every month
is meant to give you
one more chance
to cease the moment
and enjoy every breath
before the cycle ends,

the 31st of every month,
is a time to finish your to do-list,
even to start writing one
and to prepare before the
calendar folds its pages again,

the 31st of every month,
is a reminder that you
don't have to stop counting
at 10, 20, or 30,

the 31st of every month,
is a good citizen,
because it gives
more than it takes,

just ask February where its
30th has gone,
and it will tell you
how it retired and
took off with
the 31st.

What happened to those
beautiful days?

Even though I know the answer
but my heart keeps denying
that painful phase;