Evident Glass Poem by Hanan Muzafar

His eyes were marble like clean,
visible cheek bones, thin jaw, and lean body
Having a dream of pickup truck,
A toy he wants to play with,
that was his world, at that moment;
For somebody ineffective,
judged more than usual,
labelled below average in society,
But wild and free,
left behind a tiny memory.

Sitting on a chair,
and reading my stories,
even if not understanding them,
Still trying,
To make sense of absurdity,
when it ain't got any,
As if I was looking at,
part of myself in mirror,
like a bubble trapped in glass.

Far from home, and lonely,
A manual worker,
showing photograph of his girlfriend,
lying still in wallet,
touching it softly with his thumb,
wants to hold her forever,
Then said to me,
'I'm new here, and nobody listens much,
was not wealthy enough, to get education,
But everything is going fine,
work schedule is too tight,
I'm grateful to God for that'.

Well, what do you do for living,
Surviving, I'm a poet, here there,
What a poet does
He makes maps, paints worlds and things,
Would you like to paint me,
why not, I'll paint you beautiful,
That's my promise to you.