Alone

When I told you that I was alone

You did not believe me.

And I kept searching in the mansion

For the reason why you didn’t.

Until I remembered off-hand, 

That actually you never do.

And so I sat through the evening breeze

With just a teacup in my hand;

Sifting through the day’s paper,

Trying to read between the read lines.

As I waited for a knock on the door;

But there were only lashings at the window.

And then I would leap for the vibrating phone,

Only to find that it wasn’t my phone vibrating,

But the sound of  flapping of wings of a fly.

And I would try to slap the fly dead 

But then actually I never could.

And I would pretend that I was not bored,

And proudly call this loneliness solitude,

And try to write a  hypothetical novel.

But then a draft of wind would enter the room;

And I would try to save the imaginary pages

From being blown away in the wind.

But a few of the sheets would march onto the streets.

And frantically after them I would run-

Without even a clue as to where they went.

And when finally I would return

Panting and tired back to the mansion,

I would find my loneliness sitting on the sofa,

Drinking from my cup of tea,

And sifting through the day’s newspaper.

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About zeeshan

We are the twinkle in the eyes of oblivion.

4 comments

    • zee

      Thanks Diana for remebering my little runed abode! 🙂 Will gladly reply asap. Got a series of exams bothering me up. But will come back with this post definitely. 🙂

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