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Posts Tagged ‘poem. poetry’

There was a time in our lives

when we thought of the raincloud

as omen, spoiling the day

for us to play in the open.

 

The rain fills the street canals like rivers.

And if it has stopped, then hurriedly,

we rip pages from our notepads

to make us- paper boats.

 

We were so young then.

 

We are fond of races. We will race to see.

Whose boat comes first crossing the finish line?

 

If our paper boats were like voyages

of our little dreams. Would it be?

I didn’t cross the finish line first.

As mine have wilted wet, moving slow.

 

I have to be content coming in

as number two, a  second placer.

You always come away as the victor

in almost every races we used to play.

 

We are not so young anymore.

 

The tough gets going and it’s me

who have stayed behind, year after year

bobbing at sea. Sailing the ocean because

I didn’t win. Crossing first the finish line.

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