Recycle Me
As I send my unwanted, unpleasant, rejected poemsTo the recycle bin,
As I save waste water scrupulously to be sent for reprocessing,
To be purified clean, pristine,
As I sit and write calligraphically my poem on hand made paper,
Artistically primed,
Conscious of a cause I am helping there in;
I think:
What if Emotions were to be Recycled?
Would my broken heart be shredded to pieces first?
Mixed with fresh blood into an amalgam,
Then reshaped, remoulded into a new one,
Pure, pristine, untouched by none,
Ready to be written upon by fresh hand
By fresh ink and pen, like a fresh hand made paper?
Would my torn soul be mended, stitched? Melted, welded?
Into a whole new one, inexperienced, uninitiated, unreciprocated,
Ready for fresh love, fresh ecstasy, fresh agony, fresh depths to be plunged?
Like ether float afresh on the clouds of life, soar high and reach lofty heights,
Plunge deep into the Ocean of life, pearls of wisdom to seek, gems of experience to reap,
To nurture with my heart's own blood, the love of new life, with the depths of my being...
Would I change anew my life?
Would I ask my sorrows to be wiped?
Would I command my tears to dry?
Would I balm my sores to heal?
Would I request happiness to stay?
Would I ask my love not to betray?
Would I opt to be free, off all worry?
Free to be on a soulful spree, freeeee...
Would I ...?
What if Emotions were to be Recycled?
Author: Zoya Zaidi
Aligarh (UP), India
Copyright©: Zoya Zaidi
Poetry by Zoya Zaidi
Read 1909 times
Written on 2006-03-19 at 12:37
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