Thursday 14 January 2016

A different pair of shoes



I am a child born amidst fire;
shattering echoes that send sharp sensations
through my ears, and the blankness of what’s happening,
mostly, marks my identity.
My eyes, accustomed to fire and smoke,
my ears, I mentioned earlier,
my mouth, slightly open, I fail to contain
all my illusions, deceptions ---let my mouth
breathe it out little by little
as I feel a bit like nausea for being
filled with so many pointless trickeries.
Before I eat, customarily, I look out, up, sideways,
then I think, maybe I will finish my food.
Sometimes I wish if I could just see
those familiar faces that had fled from here,
I know not to where, they say they drowned,
caught up in firings, are starving somewhere;
I miss my little brother, even though I am spared
from that constant worrying over him, like my parents---
but they still have to worry, because I am alive!

8 comments:

  1. successful written
    good luck!

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  2. Not sure your piece is directly falling in line with this week s theme....

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    Replies
    1. Thank you Abhra....I know what I missed...

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  3. Such a universal story.. all that knowledge you lack when separated. Such sadness and the scars you see.

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  4. If our journey is different, less blessed, walking amidst the fire and ruins, it would be very challenging indeed ~ To be alive and worrying to live is very difficult balancing act ~

    Thanks for joining us Sreeja ~ Always good to see you linking up with D'verse ~

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  5. This is quite poignant, Sreeja! Sometimes we do wish we could see those faces from the past!

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  6. Life becomes
    hell where there
    is only fear.. and
    worry.. wHere Love
    can find no room.. but
    sorrow.. with sorrow even
    leaving in dark so cold..
    Where there is Love
    there is fortune
    where
    not
    cold
    just
    cOld...

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