IN THIS STRANGE WORLD
In this strange world,
full of fog, I float alone...
In this new found land of
separable freedom, I march alone...
In this beautiful town of
silent people, I try to find my own....
Will there be an end to
my solitude? No, I must wait on and on...
For every morning carries
hope and strength; or so I fawn…
The farther the land, the
greener the grass - in foresight,
But now wavering among
equally good choices in austere hindsight…
Albeit a few months, seem
no less than a few years – this seclusion slices you like a stiletto …
Spent gazing out of a
window, watching the road - my life…
To my dismay - I think
from friends and foes alike, I shall always be cast away,
For I do not heed the
inner voices, the ones that scream night and day…
I always choose one and
lament the other that is my very nature…
A race with my own self,
where there prevail - no winners nor losers,
Beggars like me can never
be Choosers…
And so the struggle goes
on every day till I pause,
When A feeling from deep
within the crevices of my heart,
Rises and conquers my
brain – “I must depart”…
To Reunite with my
brethren and nurture my nation
To feel at home, and
inundate this chasm of ire…
And so, I gather my sooty
stacks and rusted relics, prepare to fly…
Into the warmth, back to
my roots in a visceral high…
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