Story Of A Girl

Everyday she walks a long way down the lane.

Roads appear to her as they are.

Concrete paths, burning smell of the late 

Afternoon black pitch makes her stop suddenly.

Her eyes gaze into the big nothingness ahead.

She stands alone in the crowd, thousand 

Questions creeping in her mind, questions

That knows no answer.

Busy streets. broken street lamps bear

Her eyeballs upon them, maybe they hide;

their helpless faces in shame.

thousand stories crop up everyday

at every corner of this city. Maybe

it's her thinking aloud, "is it my anonymity?"

She lacks identity, yet she leaves her mark.

On every little stone lies her footsteps,

Crying out in vain attempt of explanation, 

"all she wanted was a story!"

In death there is peace, vices are painful.

She wanted a little everyday story for herself

Filling up the nothingness that blocks her eyes.

The sun hides behind the horizon, evening arrives

wrapped up in its blanket of calm silence 

of her sighs. Homeward bound she takes

With the same footsteps, a voice lurks behind somewhere

"your story is yet to state".

Reviews

[A. Amos]

Interesting and your passion is visible in your words