Like every day I went to bed,
Tired from the daily life,
Horns of the cars ringing in my head,
I laid down to forget the
Bitterness of the office,
And the chit-chats of my home,
I closed my eyes to escape this world.
Hours passed, and I was still asleep,
When I slowly regained consciousness,
I realized I no longer heard anyone's voice,
I realized no one was there to wake me up,
My stomach growled, but there was no food,
I was scared to death but there was no one to hold me,
I looked around the walls they were made of mud,
I looked around my home there were no lights,
I tried opening my eyes but they were glued,
I tried moving but there was no energy,

Afraid of this unfamiliar ambiance,
I just lay, waiting for help.

A ray of hope was the cry of a mother,
Who was reciting a poem for his beloved son,
........... Your first home was my belly,
You stayed in here for 9 months,
I dressed you with manners,
I gave you your character,
What an unfortunate mother I am,
Who is still alive
when her son has died,
I'm now visiting your new home,
Decorating with flowers,
What a bad mother I am,
Who sleeps on cotton,
Where her sons sleep in the dirt.......


Hearing her poem,
I said to myself,
Ah, it seems like I am dead.........






© blue moon