Rubaiyat for You
The rain keeps dripping down from the low roof—
It saddens you and makes you more aloof.
You are in the cafe, drinking your pain,
And still you say you’re all right—where's the proof?
The muddy puddles look like castaways—
They carry memories of bygone days.
You say you've buried your past and your pain,
Look with your heart—your mortal joy decays.
You starved for money and fame, and got deranged—
Restless as you were you got more estranged.
Your food tasted sour, and bitter your wine,
Wealth made you poorer and left you unchanged.
Forget the days you drank and smoked and lived
Your gypsy life when you first had arrived
In this city full of strangers and thugs—
It's been three years, you're breathing, you survived.
The rain keeps falling down from the low eaves—
Your heart still aches, and oftentimes it grieves
For the life you've lost and the life you'll lose;
Like waves on a rough sea, the present heaves.
Poetry by Bibek
Read 141 times
Written on 2018-10-10 at 14:07
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