My Silent Listener
Poem By shreya koppaka
I look back at the distant past,
With a lump in my throat and a hole in my heart,
Those sweet memories of joy and pleasure,
Those days forever I must treasure.
How happy we were in those days,
All decisions made all paths set,
How easy life was back then,
When to all questions answers were met.
Back then I had a listener,
Who heard to my tales of joy and sorrow,
And patiently sat through my crazy stories,
And silently watched me, dream of tomorrow.
I dint need advice back then,
I dint need a real person to hear me out,
All I wanted was an illusion, to which I could talk,
So a silent listener I had found.
I would talk for hours to the evening star,
Or fills many of my diary’s pages,
These became for long my silent listeners,
Which I would pretend spoke back for ages.
But now I stand alone at a junction,
My mind has suddenly stopped to function,
So many roads to take, so many ways to go,
What to do I do not know.
The road gets narrower as I proceed,
Almost alone I have become indeed,
The decisions I need to take myself,
I have me to answer to and no one else.
So now I need my silent listener to take a form,
Some advice to be given and a duty to perform,
I need my silent listener to talk,
And along with me my path, walk.
So I need my listener to be more than audience,
To be a real person for once,
Than being a listener do something more,
Listen to this plea for help and don’t ignore,
My best friend,
My only advicer,
My soul mate….. my silent listener.