Every day at around ‘4’,

I find myself alone and bored.
For this is the time I have to myself.
Quite whispers hum in my ear and
birds seem to chirp me a song.
My surroundings are plain
of brick, brown and white.
For at this time I’m forgotten
and seem to cross no one’s
mind.
One with the noise of silence and wind.
I hum back to the world hoping
not to completely get lost in this
world that carries me with the wind.
Every day at around ‘4’,
I’m lost, found and reborn.
Categories: POEMS

2 Comments

Shobi · November 17, 2018 at 9:36 am

Good

Mantasha · March 27, 2019 at 11:10 am

Very beautiful and deep.

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