It was just another day,
Sandwiches for breakfast
More like bread and butter
Chaos entering the serpent
Same old songs on my mobile
Trees running outside the windows
And the fog clinging onto them
All the way to the city of dust
Sandwiches for breakfast
More like bread and butter
Chaos entering the serpent
Same old songs on my mobile
Trees running outside the windows
And the fog clinging onto them
All the way to the city of dust
The same workstation
A litter of briefs
Scattered around tea rings
Deadlines banging inside a head minus one idea
Artworks tracing the journey
Of my increasingly deteriorating signature
The same pack of juice
Samosa in another pack
And the wait for divine inspiration
A litter of briefs
Scattered around tea rings
Deadlines banging inside a head minus one idea
Artworks tracing the journey
Of my increasingly deteriorating signature
The same pack of juice
Samosa in another pack
And the wait for divine inspiration
Missing the day turn into night
And what was once called sunset
A pigeon trapped in the duct
And a birthday cake was cut
And what was once called sunset
A pigeon trapped in the duct
And a birthday cake was cut
Then it is time to go back
The way that I had come
That part of the world where
Lived someone.
The way that I had come
That part of the world where
Lived someone.
The same pigeon shit strewn stairs
At night it could only be imagined
Up the tower, I went
And 70 harsh on my lungs steps later
Inside the quilt I was
Thinking much about nothing
When the doorbell rang
And there you were
Wearing the smile you had
Brought for me.
At night it could only be imagined
Up the tower, I went
And 70 harsh on my lungs steps later
Inside the quilt I was
Thinking much about nothing
When the doorbell rang
And there you were
Wearing the smile you had
Brought for me.
This poem was originally published by Writers Asylum.