Who Is Drowning?


He’s in ocean.
I’m in ocean.
He’s lost.
I can’t find way out.

A big city guy.
Food prices are high.
My loose pocket,
Life? I deny.

My spouse is gone.
Even the third relation broke.
A broken heart and wine in hand,
And dark and road, eyes blinded.

My career, dream job,
World tours. Collapsed.
My palms are nothing,
But few lines dead.

I’m in turmoil,
Under debts, I bray.
Like lost in a deep ocean
I can’t find way.

Has spent his life,
In efforts to survive.
He hid himself from terror.
Tried to protect loved ones,

He witnessed murder,
Saw dead shot men,
Saw streaming blood,
At age of ten.
He tried to run,
And run in vain.
Thought he’d escaped,
But they came back.
Held his soft body,
Their mucky rough hands.

He hadn’t seen sunrise,
Since that day.
It was a darkroom,
Walls four people forty.
A window, he’d peek in,
Dreams were the scenery.
Noise outside,
Eyes opened, window gone.

Mucky rough hands were back,
Paving his body of twenty three,
Strengthened as he plow,
The earth down into hell.
He seeks a light,
His heart delights.
No thought processed,
Focused on escape.
He ran and ran and ran and ran,
And ran and ran and ran in vain.
A bike, a car, any motor,
And people few,
And he flew.

A boat he took,
Back to home.
People in hope.
Bon voyage.

Water in boat.
Panic rushed.
The boat was crushed.
On the tip of the sinking boat.
And here he dives in the seas of fear.

Nobody alive.
Amidst dead dreams,
He’s in the ocean.
He is lost.


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