Are we walking back the same path,
With our eyes closed,
And fooling our hearts?
Are we trotting back the same road,
Hoping for a better ending,
Even though with the same start?
Are we skipping back to the same space,
Happy with the present,
Ignoring the future, and the past?
So we took our time to make it right,
And we fought our choice to end another fight.
But here we are, back in the sun again,
We’re loving the sunshine now, but only until there’s NO RAIN!
They never knew if it ever clicked,
But they did hear a click!
They will never know if they were in the same lane,
But they didn’t ever change their paths.
They went strawberry picking together,
And they karaoke-ed together too.
All strawberries were sort of sour,
And none of the songs in tune.
She smiles at all those events in the retrospect,
When in the hustle bustle, she’d found no time to think.
For now there’s only fond memory,
Some old pictures, and stories written in SELECTIVELY VISIBLE INK.
She kept looking outside,
Through that big french window.
She could see a lot of wind moving the trees,
Some sand in the air, some gentle tapping on the door.
She looked at the roof,
And at her surroundings.
She inspected the walls around,
The candles, the paintings.
She was comfortable where she was,
A little lost in her thoughts though.
As she slightly shivered in the cold and quiet around,
Cold on the palms, cold on the toes.
But what struck her little bit,
Was that stark reality and thought.
As to how it looked so pretty from the comfort of inside,
That humid, sandy, harsh outside DARK.
He was standing on a corner on the road,
The busy traffic as if wouldn’t let him go through.
He seemed lost, looked up, then around, and then into thin air,
Then turned around and started fiddling with his hands.
In some time he smiled to himself,
And then again, seemingly went back to his dream land.
And then as if time had paused,
He just stood there and kept standing there.
After about ten minutes of doing all this,
And then doing nothing but still standing there,
He gave some confused looks, dodged some vehicles,
And tried to jump in the middle of the road in an attempt to cross it.
Seeing the failed attempts and his desperation,
An old man standing there offered to help him,
To which this young man shrugged,
And gave a disgusted, offended look.
Calmly pulling out some headphones from his ears,
The young gentleman crossed the road.
While the old man with the walking stick now stood there,
Debating with himself, the NUISANCE OF THE NEW.