If you miss the plane I am on…
Then you’ll know that I am gone…
The house was getting smaller from my seat window…
For the trouble is now down below….
Everything we had is just a display…
I can no longer hideaway….
It hurts like a bite of a dark stingray…
I blame everything on yesterday….
The house was now disappearing…
Over there, happiness is the widow of the spring…
Over the years, I let the boat rocking…
For every small discomforting…
The dark clouds are now in my reach….
I wish I could have them bleach….
Years ago when times do not bite….
Or dictate everything we hate….
Not a skirt on my bag….
Not a penny on my hands…
Oh, please don’t let me go back…
With shoes full of sharp sands…..
Everything shines more from a distance….
I will be on my feet again in an instance….
From time to time, I still need your guidance….
In my silent acceptance….
We’ll be better as a perfect stranger….
Every worry will not turn into anger….
Every disappointment will be a foreigner….
And we’ll stop searching for an answer….
If you miss the plane I am on…
Then you’ll know that I am gone….
As I am letting you go on….
To the world that I could no longer call my own…
Copyright© Eva Clara Harahap Feb’2010
Eva Clara Harahap
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem