To be honest
I don't want to leave
but on my door
the eviction notice
ruins my peace.

You have nothing worthwhile to show
any extension is warranted.

Instead of making good use
you dug up all the excuse
flawlessly lame
in shifting the blame
not giving a penny to the thought
you contributed to the rot
if only by thinking selfishly
the cause was outside you
and the remedy beyond you.

In another two days
I'm shifting to a new home
and you bet
I won't change my trait.

I wrote my heart across the sky,
But it faded with the blue.
I wrote my heart on the clouds,
They poured down with it.
When I wrote it on land
It went wild with the wind!
So I decided to live it
But no one could believe it,
The beggar by the street couldn't have it
And the farmer couldn't preserve it.
Nothing seemed to work.

I was out of luck!

Till I saw a blank page
And dirtied it with the ink of rage.
Then it stayed fixed for years
Until the people read,
Read it out loud to the skies
So everyone on land could hear.
It rained on everyone's ear,
The people on the street were wet with a tear!
The eloquent breeze of trees held it high
And it stick to their heads like glue.
Where it came from they had not a clue!

The battle is won,
Most of my people are gone,
But the war goes on!

.
She sits for most of the time,
in a metal chair with wheels.
Counting out the value of life
with an injury that never heals.

She waits for most of the time,
to confirm that she is really there.
But how many people notice her
sat down in her wheel-chair.

She's invisible for most of the time,
she is there but nobody spies.
So she spreads her tiny wings
and floats unnoticed to the skies.

She cried for most of the time,
always alone and lonely in a crowd.
Now flying free her spirit rises,
there's no discrimination in the clouds.


© Pagan Paul (25/12/16)