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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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Staying in a shell forged in pain

 There are people

Who clean toilets 

They can never sit on

And they don’t have it 

In their houses

Because 

There are no houses 

For them


There are people

Who bathe in hot showers

Too hot for the skin

But they feel nothing

Because the inside burns

Much more


There are people

Who feel proud

To walk into a store

And buy oats


It is one of their

Two great achievements

The other

Is getting out of bed


There are people

Who feel proud

To sleep till noon


It is one of their

Two treasured moments

The other

Is falling asleep

In the first place


There are people

Who stay in,

Not going to parties,

Watching porn

Because it is the only thing

That makes them feel

Anything


Even if that ‘anything’

Is their own sorrow

Their own shattered selves


There are people

Sitting naked

Beside running taps

In their bathrooms

Crying

Having no strength

To bath

Having no strength

To put something on

Alone

Afraid of

Their own selves



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