I lament the evils of the world
wishing peace instead of war
and seek to guide
us all to something better…
yet, I dress myself in a kind
of kindness only begging to be praised
the goodness gold of Vegas gilded walls.
I am the sullen sound
of a lonely penny in a beggar’s bowl
the humility of silk underclothes
covering my workman’s clothes,
the light inside your fridge
that’s only bright with open door.
I never even learned to know his name,
the man I sometimes met,
until afterwards —
when the flower of his blood on the floor
had been washed away
and I joined the mourning crowd…
That’s why you need to eavesdrop, spy,
expose me naked,
I need to see my flaws
exactly like I nitpick yours.
Be my mirror and I’ll be yours.
Today Anmol challenges us at dVerse to write confessional poetry… a true challenge. I reflected on my own reaction to a man committing suicide at my workplace. He had jumped to death inside our building and was found on Monday morning. Also linking to Tuesday platform at toads.
January 15, 2018