One Of My Days - Poem by Vidi Writes
One Of My Days
Alarm at sharp five brings me into new day
Can’t open the eyes fully, they keep still shut.
Mind still masticating the endless dreams
Winter’s magic spell and enchantment is at blame.
Sympathizing for those who sweat with heat of dawn
My body, still resists to be lifted itself from the couch.
The thought of domestic chores gives a twitch
Eyes are opened still blinking with unease.
I can hear the sound of speeding vehicles
Already people with mission are on the road.
Thought of same mission sets me on my heels
But not in that hurry like those who are in transport.
Relishing a few moments under the shower
I refresh my energy and get perfumed and fresh.
When one could not get water to cook his food
Is this pouring water on my head is a luxury?
I recall a glimpse of those dried and died taps
Interrogation is of short span, a lightening in daylight.
Routines get started with a timetable in air and in that,
I have my time for sipping a cup of hot tea in balcony.
Wondering how many can have this sip of the morning
Cost of sugar and sigh of deprived gets dipped in tea.
Trembling hands with miniature glasses are still better
At the end of last sip, I can feel only my sweet and hot tea.
Hands at work but mind at a stream of thoughts
I realize everyday; these chores only spin my blood.
The spice and the rice give me the strength
Each bit I taste, push me to think of those who starve.
I cannot avoid my wastes at the cost of palpitations
Clearing vessels and emptying the bowls are my routine.
I take my time to seek into my wardrobe and mirror
I do have my collection and preference for the wear
Each set I take and put on, I remember the naked skin
Which trembles at the street against the endless breeze.
My look in the mirror gives me a gloomy stature
When I am out to work, somehow, I feel I am the queen.
Office desk provides clear picture of my current load
AC room, ceiling Fan, mineral water are support systems.
A peep from window shows queued up laborers, for a contract
I take a swift turn to my table not to bear those painful looks.
Grumble for load lost credence against the hoots of jobless
Boss calls for a demo, agony vanished, pride shoots up.
Back home when the sun already shining at other land
Thinking of ice creams and chocolates in the fridge.
Switch on the computer and start writing a poem
With full vigor, magic of words with dictionary beside.
Somewhere maid washes vessels and girls got raped
But I am on my soft couch with sweet dreams calling.
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