POET CORNER By Saad Khan

Soul

 

Nightmare: Paper, can’t fill, can’t pay, the bills.

Lifeless has become Life, so so lifeless.

Though not like before, I was so blessed.

I have lived, and died, before I have lived.

 

I make my way, over to my old spot.

Got my paranoia, says I’ll be shot.

Wild, is my hair, wild, my eyes, I don’t care.

People, I guess, they do, for they just stare.

 

Sitting on the lush green grass,

Roll a crooked joint. “Try, try again.” Point!

Tears, I’d shed, before was knocked on the head.

Caught a spark of light before it was dark

 

“Let me tell you, what this is, in a phrase.

Speak up, if yourself, you wish to save.”

“I’m reminded of my past, as runs Time.

How I thought the world’s mine when I was nine.

 

Memories spring up, lost so much time.

The faults I find, I can’t really change.

On myself, I take out all this rage.

Must do my best, because the entire world’s a stage.

 

I can’t, really, feed my own self.

Steal and spend the days and nights, high, hell!

I stopped looking at the clock, for it mocks,

My existence and it does not just stop.

 

All religions of the world, and man is

Still an animal, a cannibal,

Why do sinners, call themselves believers?

You know only, to deceive, I’m pleased.

 

You take up faith, so you’ll be revered.

You, new people, are devoid of faith”

“Damn, he’s really, from a damn old cave.”

“When I try to speak up and be brave,

 

You say he sounds like he’s from a cave.

To your lust and your desires, you’re slaves.

You’ll know when you are in your deep graves.”

“Beat that kid!” said a man with a big beard.

 

And the people did beat me, with cheer.

Their hearts, were made of stone, I was stoned, they

Wondered, if I should be hanged or stoned,

“I’m who you want to kill, then, kill me!

 

Your fat bellies, shall, never, be filled.

You don’t notice it, you are such filth.”

 

They say, “You will pay for your bold, old words.”

“I am who I am, I will be heard.”

“He should die!” said a man with a big cross.

Wanted to be the boss, lives lost, wasn’t loss.

 

“I was hoping I’d meet Death, end would dread.

I would find relief, with my last breath.

Crows, they’re waiting, for my corpse to peck on.

There shall be bones, scattered, early, dawn.

 

I guess this is the end of the ride, Life!

I, too, have a right, to die with old pride.

I drown in despair, in a deep, deep sea.

Wild, my thoughts are going to kill me!

 

You, new people, know how to run a race.

Chasing others, keeping up your pace,

You have the world figured out, the rest, shout!”

“Junkie!” someone said, meant nothing to them.

 

They meant nothing to me, really!

The strange nothingness runs oddly, so deep.

I no longer feel, like I have to weep.

“All faiths say there’s something, there is something!

 

What if there is nothing, just plain nothing!

How can I live, when I die? How can I?

When I’ll have said bye, to the world and died?”

“You are ill!” they let me go. “You need pills!”

 

I continue to deteriorate.

My curse, it seems, will not, just abate.

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