Poem: Diary Blues

Dear Diary,

Today, I’ll share with you
a story of a boy
because you are my only ally.
So, lend me your ears
and a few moments from your years.
Here it goes…

“There lived a lonely guy

he had no friends, no brothers

or nobody who would die.

Nobody to serve cold dishes,

no malicious foes,

or to make any ill-wishes.

He desired no miracles,

neither prayed for no gifts,

nor was he lucky for free-falling apples.

He was his only priory,

an introvert for a speaker,

and his only  listener, a dear diary.

One fine day, God showered a surprise,

and his life turned into a nightmare,

gifted him friends for reprise.

They became his oxygen,

someone for whom he would sacrifice,

would walk into a lion’s den.

The foolish fish jumped off its bowl,

in expectation to find more water,

into a world that offered no soul.

Unaware was he of the fire,

following the paradise,

which would light up his pyre.

Absent from the real surroundings,

lost in the music so divine,

he trusted in the imaginary bindings.

The god-gifts took him so high,

up above the world,

and dropped him down, to die.

“Why did you stick to the ones who lied?”,

with a lump in its throat,

on his death, only his diary cried.

Do not expect no amends,

the boy lived and died alone,

and that is how the story ends.”

Ashish

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