5: 00 Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

</>I am ailing.
Second line, you are not here.
You have gone into a land
Where I can never take you by the hand,
And the rivets partition you away from me,
Where have you gone?
Why are you silent?
I am a decadent child,
And as a decadent child,
My soul is wrinkled,
My hands are tremulous,
The Sun is preposterous
And the glum streaks
Are like crows that descend
From the aperture-
15th line, you are still not here,
It’s as if, the end was obvious,
And my thoughts are lascivious,
Flirting with the thought,
Mingling with the fray,
That you will arrive at any time of the day,
Lest shall I sigh and say,
“The clouds are within reach,
But your skies are not here to stay.”
You are not here,
Wherever you are,
I do not fear, there is no misery,
As long as you are a distant memory,
And as long as I am a within proximity,
I will hold you wanly,
Subtly, you are as fragile as a crystal shard
32nd line, still, you are not felt
I may have lost you,
From the very 1st line itself.