No one bought his dreams
He sowed them in the graveyard
No one rings the door bell
The house is clean, fragrant,
the refrigerator is full,
the snack jar overflows with nuts,
three single malt whiskeys in the kitchen shelf,
fresh farm fruits in the basket.
The day and night, I prepare food,
And feed me watching videos.
Other than online order delivery boys,
No one rings the doorbell.
The Second Sunrise
A tall stout tree
Fruits of the park
The unnamed bird’s chirp
The squirrels run down from the tree
The puppies play in the grass
The public circle inside the park
The families relax beneath the shades of the tree
The kids’ cycle around the park
A blind man walks alone.
Flying in the night
Working to escape feelings
The shadow of the tired
In slow-moving traffic,
A Fast beating heart,
Starting at the screen,
Devoid of curiosity,
Scared of old feeling rising,
All vehicles are still on the road,
Questioning the decision to travel,
There falls a shadow of wasted life.