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Loud Rain

The rain is loud now, As if a giant feet arises from the clouds To step on the river under the bridge of my heart And disturb it in such a way That the sails of ships bend, And the water touches the bridge from below, Tickling it to sorrow… The rain is loud now, But actually, it has always been like this. You were there once, And I never felt it. But now, All there is Is this sorrow That tickles me from inside, As if it wants me to laugh, Yet doesn’t let me At the same time…
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Incompleteness of man

 The child 

Had too many paper cuts.

So his teacher

Did not teach him the full art.

He could make

A paper plane.

And only

A paper plane.

The teacher quit.

But the child kept on making

Paper planes,

With larger and larger paper.

And when the wind blew,

He would sit on it

And fly above his teacher's house,

Proudly.

The child

Had too many paper cuts.

So his teacher

Did not teach him the full art.

So the child expanded what he had known.


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