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…
Two empty chairs sit on the beach,
Shaded by the umbrella,
Looking at the waves kiss the shore and shy away
Like a little boy kissing the girl
When the parent takes eyes off for a whim.
Two empty chairs sit on the beach
Enjoying wind to the face in the morning,
Wind to the back at night
Everyday,
Yet not complaining
Of the monotony;
The same winds,
The same waves,
The same young turtles swarming to the ocean
Before a beaked helicopter scoops them up;
Some reaching it,
Making it,
Making more eggs
And more food for the gulls.
Two empty chairs sit on a beach
And see life happen.
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