A COMPLAINT

Uncategorized

The only complaint I have

Is against myself.

There is no point complaining

To anyone if they can’t fix it.

No point in wasting words

That bounce off the walls

And back at your ears,

In an empty chamber

That has bars for windows.

There is no one who can

Fix my longstanding complaint,

Except One.

And He doesn’t seem much concerned

About it.

Maybe, He has too much

On His mind.

So, he chooses neither to reject it

Nor to accept it

And therefore, fix it.

He leaves me in a limbo of a life,

Quite conveniently for Him.

If it can be called a life;

Neither swimming nor drowning,

Neither burning nor extinguished,

Neither resplendent green nor bone parched dry,

Neither shining at noon, nor setting at dusk,

Just gray and ashen and alone,

Painfully alone.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s