Their eyes don't meet with mine,

There's a full stop to the routine 

Chatter at quarter past nine,

An elderly heart whines

For the savings lost 

On fruitless mines,

I get to hear furious yells 

More than the temple bells,

It's a heartbreak weather altogether;

One by one, we lose all our feathers.

 

The food is served unequally

And there's more on my plate;

They immeasurably sedate

With great love and sacrifice,

It's hard to count the number 

Of times that I've detected 

Their clean white lies.

 

The sun rises at a different angle,

And it's rays seems entangled

To reach our dark times,

The wind doesn't shake 

The shakeable chimes,

I hear a far-cry of a free-bird 

That's probably stuck in a net;

I've begun to feel greater 

Than the greatest debt. 

 

1-6-2018