Like a window's tears,
It transformed,
When her child disappeared
And even the silence of
Aloneness started asking,
Like a suicidal shadow,
“Who are you crying for”?
Its not who, but what …
Said the English teacher,
She switched off the lights,
Trying to extinguish.
Sun rays straightened up,
Reflected on shattered
Glass pieces,
Symbols of yesterday’s dance,
And like an abstract art piece
They formed, to scream,
“Are you crying for lost motherhood”?
She just closed the curtains,
And darkened the faces
Of those glass pieces,
Till they became stained in red.
3 comments:
Silence
Wouldn’t recommend to many, theoretically shaky. Dealing with death of a child and a mother’s sorrow, and brutally frank questioning. A very one sided view, without empathy. I didn’t want to write it till it began to scream inside to let out.
very dark.
and yes not empathetic.
it's perhaps the sense of loss, loss of what could have been, loss of hope, nurturing left incomplete..
yeah... the main theme according to me is, the twisted question, "who are you crying for"...
when someone dies, do we cry for ourselves, or for the dead one? -
is there a point in crying for a dead person?
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