Days are easy, full of sun and men and so,
I wave at them often and they revert with a smile
Nights are different, sans light sans shadows, not even mine
Stars too far from my casement.
Every night, I stare a blank sky,
dark, desolate, carrying an old moon with rashes
My heart no different.
In my balcony I stand, facing the winds who talk
Trying to hear them whisper
For they often talk about me
They bring the memories from my glorious past
One of these nights, I will bribe them to take me back
The winds pass too soon, in a moment or two
Leaving me with my barren present soaked in my own salt
Stars still don’t show up, they don’t come my way too often.
Words have taken a sabbatical lately,
My pen pining for them
I often try to read off the old scribbles
Scratches on my glasses don’t help though
The creases in the bed, I leave them untouched
They remind me of wrinkles on my face
I live in a mess, things hurled haphazardly inside
But I keep my balcony decorated
Passersby seldom care for what is inside
They judge what they can see, the balcony.
I stand there, hiding my present behind a hideous beard n broken glass,
Showing them a smile, borrowed from my past
They can never tell!