Tarnish

Can't find reason to be happy
can't really pull things together...

don't want to wipe off the dust
on the glass panes of the window
don't want to read the cracks
on the dried leaf
that entered through the window
one afternoon
and has ever since, been captivated
between the pages of the diary...


Can't sleep well at nights
a day full of haps, rather mishaps
plays on the mind
the lamp post outside
stands alone
its light..., strives hard,
fights the palm leaves,
finds the only possible way
through the broken glass window,
enters the grave-dark room,
stabbing the darkness.


Huh!
You wake up... irritated,
get off the bed
cover the window with heavy curtains,
and go to bed...
Satisfied!