...And She Was Sitting Right There

…And she was sitting right there
Right in front of me
In all her beauty
All her innocence
Her soul uncorrupt as yet
Her smile pure
Such a cure
For my pathetic mood
And I kept staring deep into her eyes
Occasionally glancing at her moving lips
When she talked
And her cheeks
When she laughed
Depressions of ripe perfection

…And then there was the emptiness
Walls made up of bricks left alone
With the dead wooden furniture items
She was sitting on one of them
And it looked nice back then
But no more
No more the beauty
No more the purity
Those walls were all infected
Infected with hypocrisy
Infected with a history of betrayal

…And I reflected
If there was anything
Anything at all
That could’ve changed
All misery to happiness
All pain to satisfaction
All infection to a cure

But nothing seemed to work
The world stayed the same
And so did I

Wednesday, April 19,2006

by Muhammad Yahya

Other poems of YAHYA (5)

Comments (1)

heyyy this is a really good poem! Really like it. May I know if such a person exists, or this is all just some brilliant imagination? (definitely 10/10 from me!) Keep up the great work, Dona