The defining moment in a second.

the miracle in a blink of an eye.

how the seasons turn in a split.

how the years roll with a swing.

the questions that get no answers.

the puzzles that revolve with spinning time.

the man at the back of the bus keeps writing.

his back is full of arrows.

I am in love with his anger, the way he cries softly.

the woman on the walk way is singing.

I recognize it as an old dirge sung by Priests.

my Mother wonders why I am so moved by sadness.

I say that I blame the books that gave me knowledge.

knowledge is a lot of suffering, I begin.

but not everyone likes these sentiments.

I stood in front of children to speak yesterday.

I was torn by their obvious enthusiasm and my deep seriousness.

In a bid to match theirs, I became a clown.

and the more I screamed, the more they laughed.

now, I have tears in my eyes.

a scarred cheek and a stretched heart.

Everyone seems fine with this drama.

but I am thinking of my next steps.

hoping that the stars don’t glow with my mistakes.


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