Picking Up The Pieces

Where do I start?

Where are the remnants of my past?

I do not remember nor do I care,

I am now stranded with the shallowness of a frightening present.

I was once a child,

Even as I aged, I had the mirth of innocence,

I laughed as I should,

The world around me a haven I could trust.

Now I am a stranger,

Stranger still as I look at the world so strange,

The world no more familiar,

As streets stand empty,

Smiles bereft of ‘Happy’

Instead stark fear stares through teary eyes.

I look for refuge,

I see the trees, those sparkling greens, radiant beauty in flowers,

The animals,

they walk past me, wondering,

why the humans are crying,

Did they not know that they were the cause for their own tears?

Did they not anticipate living in fear….some time in the future?

The time for my passing is near,

I am trapped in a cluster of dread, regret, fear, suspicion, pretense,

I breathe foul air, that once was perfumed,

I eat stale bread, for there are no hands for baking, sharing, restoring.

I have lost to the sham of this world,

It was once ruled with greed, hatred and arrogance,

I watched while it devoured my zest for living,

It is now late, I close my eyes,

And wait……

-shobana-

All rights reserved. Copyright@shobana2020

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