A Room Mate

a poem by Naveed Khalid, Pakistan

This 12 by 12 feet room
is all the world to me
I stay in, or if I go
out where?
The darkness drops
like rain
on my windowpane,
the mountains capp'd
with snow,
a stream melts beneath
the bed of roses:
It's time for snow-man!

Everyone in his bed,
and I in mine- -
a sleepy head,
dreams my food
for daily bread,
a bunch of stars
over my head,
some at the door;
some on the floor;
some are gone
through the ventilator
in whirlwind of dust,
like dry autumn leaves.
The paint's wearing off
from the walls
in human figures
to make faces at me
with the question mark, why?
And no picture
on the north of the wall,
where Harry Potter's
"Lord of the Rings"
us'd to hang;
there in the corner,
facing west,
the reading table;
the borrow'd chair;
the carpet;
the curtains;
the bed
in the centre supplied
from my sister's

On either side
of the south-west,
two similar windows- -
spacious enough
for an American dream,
richly colour'd
in purple hue
by the western
and the door opens
into the sanctuary
of my home
in the east:
my last resort.

(C) Naveed Khalid

Copy Rights (C) 2011.
All Rights Reserved.

Date Created: Thursday, July 18,2013 4: 47: 34 PM

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