School yard , starry night
I decided to flee,
to vapour into the air,
along with the pride of age twenty,
that besieged in poverty.
Dew on grass, wet as tear.
mark me not, I dare!
I ran, like a fighting wolf, for years onwards,
who adored me, left me, allured me, bullied me,
forgave me,followed me,
who in haste, passed me.
Then I saw her again, a mother of three,
content and sweet, as before ,
yet she wrote no more,
her fables were left on the stone bridge,
where I read through our childhood,
her romance are left too
where we departed.
She dropped out of school,
she had a pen pal,
Eye burnt blind,
In building her a marital house,
on miles and miles lonely rice field.
The other sweetheart of mine,
had velvet skin and garnet-like pupils.
She loved to pass me verses at classes to pair,
She loved my misty poetry, that never ever came clear.
She had become a teacher like me,
still drinking boiled water in rising steam,
she blew, sipped,
couldn’t let go, inhaling as if for the aroma of tea.
talking about her little family
we tied the loose end that loosened thereafter
That year I was thirty.
not to be conquered ,
I was the solution, the companion, the fighter,
I was justice, courage, and protection.
by many a beauty I was admired and wished for as I would myself,
city to city, failure by failure, falsely seen as a heroine,
Till at airport, he walked towards me like a lord,
every penny dropped.
his eyes, pure and innocent,
like those of a baby when his mother leaned over to check.
his shoulders, warm and broad,
and his hand in mine wherever we went.
He is the reason why I fought, I suppose,
and the home of my heart