Bright Monday Morning
Six months it took for me to fix my creaky door,
I wonder why I was ok with so many mornings going sore.
A few drops of oil and a state of mind to mend it,
That's all it took and I am glad I could end it.
Since that day, my door keeps venting,
How he could hear me creak as well and how I needed mending.
Funny how times change, how six months an unbearable pain,
Becomes just a flash in the pan, when reminiscing it stroking your mane!
Facial hair, scattered although it might be,
Growing it with care is the only chore that now...keeps me even slightly.
Just when its time to turn another page,
To fall into slumber giving rest to my rage.
I see the colors so vivid, the sun begins shining,
Alas its time to go to sleep, on a Bright Monday Morning.
shan posted on August 30, 2010 at 1:37 PM
A good exercise on subtle poetry. I enjoyed it. Shall write in detail later.
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