The Poetry Marathon

I miss the little laugh we shared
last summer over coffee.
I miss the words
your eyes whispered to me
I miss how we held hands.
On the rainy days, our slow dance.
And when the nights were stone-cold
your hands’ warmth atone.
On thinking,
the memories aren’t blithe as they were.
The summer only burns through my skin,
my ears have gone deaf over time,
my hands have gone rough,
rains are dull and slippery,
and nights now, bright and blistering.

I stand where I could never go back.
You aren’t cruel, our little memories are.

The world suddenly weighs on my shoulder
Strangers that turned friends
Have gone back to being strangers
And friends now, think I’m naïve.

There’s a sudden nudge
from everyone around,
to get work done faster
in ways better than before.

But buds are to bloom on their own
Not to be pricked this way.
If it were meant to be like this
why plant the seed anyway?

It wouldn’t matter to you
when I stand and watch,
a meek flower fall it’s way through
in the pattering of the rainfall.

What might the flower be feeling?
Was she happy? or dismal for her end.
perhaps did she dreamed
To birth fruits of her own.

Was she ready to take the fall?
Was she ready to give it her all?
Or did her dreams falter her
and ended up lost so far.

I’ll be the sunshine
That your moonlight glitters;
Far away, watching people
Look at you and stun in admiration.
I’ll be the star-like freckles
adorning your face.
I’ll fill the sky-like void of
Your heart.
I’ll be the comfort to rely on
The shoulder to cry on
Till the whole world comes crashing down
Above us.