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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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Growing up

 I grew up in a tiny dark room

With a square window I could not reach

I thought; “one day I'll grow up.

I'll break the window and outside reach.


“I'll see trees, people and park benches

I'll see the sun, not just its beams

I'll search for god. I'll go to churches

I've  only read books and seen things in dreams


I grew into a man

I could reach the window

The bars were weak with rust

And flowery creepers grew slow


I wanted to break free

But those creepers were beautiful

So I sat there to write a poem

And made my heart full


The creepers grew

Sprouting flowers and leaves

And they covered the walls,

Cracking bricks, breaking lightbulbs


I wrote poem after poem

I never wanted to leave

The walls cracked

They will fall on me one day

And I’ll die with my poems.


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