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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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To be discarded

 She saw me;

A rusted nail,

And kept me upright on the floor

So that people will notice.

They curse me;

Still failing to discard me.

They have their pain to deal with.

She saw me;

A rusted nail,

And thought I was always the same.

Little does she know

That I used to hold

The picture of some nude girl by some famous artist,

An old man's stool,

The image of God himself.

But now

I am to be discarded.

One shouldn’t put together a broken mug

Without all the pieces.

The Mona Lisa with a moustache

No longer has value.

Now

I am to be discarded,

And I wait for someone sensible

To do it.

Or I'll remain a rusted nail,

Upright on the floor

Wounding more people.

Now I am to be discarded,

And I wait for someone sensible

To do it

To me.


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