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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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We should be dumb

 We think being soft is being weak.

We think being lonely is being intelligent.

We think seeing magic is being a child.

Isn’t it sad?

We have to be autistic

To smile at a butterfly.

We have to be schizophrenic

To see something that's not there.

We need illness

To be real again.

What has happened to us?

We are

Too good,

Too structured,

Too fixed in our ways.

We don’t see

The melody in birdsong,

The flute of the wind,

The majesty in the cloak of a native American chief.

We are

Too good,

Too structured,

Too fixed in our ways.

And we can never be happy.


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