joggers’ park

Posted on | March 24, 2010 | Comments Off

And she said, being transparent
Might not be enough, for people-
Like you and me, we are just dreams
Walking; on the shores of reality-
Living in seventeen inch boxes,
Hung on walls or carried in bags.

And I said, no. that is not right.
We are alive, and surviving.
Let us live, give ourselves
A chance to prove us wrong.
There are things which have to be lived through,
And lives-
We are walkers,
Strolling in new parks everyday,
I said, we cross people, if we walk fast enough,
Or they go ahead, jogging, in soundless shoes,
And sometimes-
If the speeds are just right,
We walk together-
Listening to the pitter-patter,
Of our unsure steps, in sync,
Or not-
With each other.

And she said,
No, not exactly,
We are racers, chasing ourselves,
On a circular racetrack,
Breathless, tired, old people,
Trying to stay in shape, to be attractive,
Running away from ourselves,
On circular tracks,
Loose people with weak wills,
We just try, or like to think we do.

And I said, maybe there is
Something in what you say,
And maybe,
I will learn, someday-
To chase my own tail. To stop running after
Shadows. Someday, maybe,
I will-
Run to break free. Till then,
See you.
And I will break this promise too.

Similar Posts:

• the last poem
• dolor
• road to nowhere

Comments