Metanoia Poem by Somendra Gaur

A window besides which lie brocken chairs,
With his back against the wall
Sits a man with self-disdain and disgust,
Feeling lost,
Melancholy & Hate,
The dilution brought a smile on his face,
What hurts most?
He's mere a shadow of his former self,
He accepts,
he's uglier than ever,
Isn't indiscipline the ugliest?

He looks at the incandescent light bulb,
Which shan't give light,
& thinks about himself,
Now,
there is a relief on his face.
He watches one of the brocken chairs carefully and process things,
watches termites,
then observes a group of ants;

The sunlight falls on the window pane & trees out are dancing with the breeze,
He feels,
Joy
and
Enjoys their happiness;

Embracing life and both sides of it,
Looking at his feet he finds,
He still has his favourite Nike's on,
And decides,
It's morphing time.

The water cooler and the crows around it.

The doubts come up,
'Will I be able to make friends with the gloomy boulevard again? '
Follows:
'Maybe I'm still their favourite child'

He now appreciates his knowledge about the depth of the seas,
Also about the roads which only he knows,
It's again him and his desire,
'To find the reticent man,
Who works'