When I come walking all tired and lazy,
Feeling all the more crazy.
I see that heavenly door in front of me,
I wait in front of it just to see,
If I can get in and go really high,
Leaving the sun, saying goodbye.
That grey interior may look gloomy to you,
It looks good only to a strange few.
I am one among those few and so I stand and stare,
At the tubelights, at it's silent glare.
My journey from ground to top,
Because of the lift is never a flop.
My daydreaming goes inside the lift,
Which takes me home, quick and swift.
When I listen to that eerie sound,
It makes me go round and round.
It's been fifteen years and this routine goes on and on,
Even if I am weak, even if I am strong.
When thefan is on it's double pleasure,
so big I don't know how to measure.
The door in front of me sudddenly opens to the outer corridoor,
Somewhere in second floor.
I stop my daydreaming and get outside.
Now I can go to my flat, I need no guide.
When the door closes behind me,
I feel like going back to experience the same journey.
A really great poem, a great write. May i invite you to read my new poem called, The Holy Man.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wowwwwwww nice nice reli great love reading ur poems! wonnderful keep it up!