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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