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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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The days repeat

 Plastic flowers on the office table,

‘Canon’ played at weddings,

A young man living alone,

Going to work

Again.

Waking up

To dress up,

To breathe smoke on the way to work,

To breathe smoke at work,

Come back,

Lie in bed thinking about

Washing the dishes,

A book he planned to start writing,

A girl he wants to ask out.

But having no energy,

No fire to produce smoke,

No firewood to create the fire

In the first place.

Firewood drenched in water,

Candle without a wick,

An armless clock.

No wall will bear him,

No girl will say yes.

He is always tired

Because he wakes up everyday

To dress up,

Breathe smoke on the way to work,

Breathe smoke at work

Until he dies.


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