This writing is about our storms, as we all are passing through something that is hidden! |
Yesterday a storm passed me, Storm that was building long ago since I started my journey, A truth about me passed me yesterday, And I’m quite okay now and at peace I know damage has done, damage which had to be done So I picked up a pen and a paper and started writing what I have been through But damage has done! And nobody cares if I have survived! Even nobody cares if I have been through something My neighbors last saw me on Saturday morning on my window They don’t talk me and that’s why I don’t talk them. And as I don’t talk them I’m up to my own life I own nothing except this only house which is empty Once someone told me! An old figure whom I met while putting flowers on my parent’s graves in street 42 St. John Graveyard that: Never forget your bringing and belongings! And that is the reason why I don’t leave this house I love what I own, And I know it is a quite place but at least these walls have accepted me without a question. Because I have never ever hammered a single nail onto these walls, these walls are happy with me. Yesterday, My neighbors moved on because there was an storm warning They knocked my door number of times But as they are Humans! They thought that I already left Now, My village, street, town and my surroundings are empty and quite look like my house Of course there was a storm warning so people had to move to some save places And I’m here alone waiting for the storm to pass me by! I have no one to care if I die today And I belong to nothing except myself. My bringing have already made me what I’m today So I’m leaving behind nothing but these Walls My bed My pillow My papers My pen And my stories or an old photo frame. My belongings! |