Walking alone towards home
I ponder over my destiny.
Each day as I return from work
It seems as though the setting sun
Wants my daily progress report
And sinks in disappointment
Seeing meagre achievements.
Walking under the amber lights
I look at fellow humans
In a rush to reach home themselves
Or perhaps to reach their workplace, I know not.
For some, the road is their workplace;
Their sullen faces betraying disappointment
Frustration and monotony.
I also see people amble past.
As if they are from another realm.
Families of four, crowds of three, groups of two.
They appear rich, in wealth and in love;
Their sight compounds my frustrations
And convinced that I am a lone warrior
I trod along with heavier steps.
Feeling emptier than before.
As I open the door to my home
My mother receives me with a smile
Glad that I came back
For every day is a struggle.
In the warmth of my home
I realize a great fool I was
To have deemed myself miserable
I am but as wealthy as any other,
My bastion of love filled with definitely more occupants to come.
But bastions don’t move with the warrior, do they?
And so I go off to sleep
With my blade of hope re-sharpened.
The next day cynicism shall blunt it again
And the setting sun shall still remain unimpressed.
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Then there were poets The Puzzle Maker Then there were poets, who used to express but still hide, their ability to write, a gift to mankind, or a curse for their kind. A terrible territory, their m… Source: World Poetry Day
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