Poem#29 Ask me and I will tell you

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Ask me why I am happy.
And I will tell you

About the late summer nights
I spent under the starlight...

About the breeze through the window
which called me to look outside at the snow.

About this heavenly scent... petrichor, I meant.
(which, ironically is found here on earth)

About marks on the coffee cup
by the lips which lingered on them.

I will tell you five stories
each story entailing my senses

Ask me why I am sad
And I will tell you
Of all things that are bad

Maybe the world is dying
Or maybe I just refuse to look at the flowers blooming in the graveyard
For I feel guilty.

I would tell you about the injustice
but, they say karma will take care of it...

I would tell you about suffering but
they say it is supposed to make you stronger

But in truth these are the things which makes me angry.

I would tell you about the things that make me sad... But I am too scared...
If I tell you about
a drying river
a pair of baby shoes for sale which were never worn
a butterfly with broken wings
a caged bird
a crushed bug under a rock
a lover mourning in the graveyard
a trampled flower on sidewalk
a bullied kid
a dying old man
a lost girl
--
you would arrange them in order of sadness.
Or maybe, even dismiss some.

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