Mundane.

"What can you hear when the shouting is over."

And you think of the dancer.

And when all the screaming and shouting is over

And after you have seen silence

Prancing about on all fours

Sitting here, leaping there,

At 5 a.m.

You head to the loo for a smoke

you stole from your father

"Oh! they shouldn't smell it."

Standing in the back alley,

that stinks of piss and moss and garbage,

You look at the sky turning

Red from black to yellow.

You spend your days doing nothing

And your nights,

Flicking shadows off your fingertips

At the people that pass you by.

You shout behind your back

To your mother who toils away

In the hot, suffocating kitchen,

"I am going down for a stroll."

But not by the beach, no.

A cemented side-walk is all

You have, to stroll on,

(Is it 'on', or is it 'by' .. grammar, oh !)

Where the little plants that grew there

And that one big tree, before the side-wall

was built, have been choked to death.

You wish you could write

With your eyes closed,

In your own darkness,

Your own damp, dilapidated world.

Because when you open you eyes,

You see all those times

That have gone by.

All those opportunities that you missed,

Wagging their tongues at you,

Looking at you with that teasing eye.

You think,

"Oh ! What a loser am I !"

You walk ahead in faked ignorance

Leaving a trail of fragments,of

Your imagination

To follow you behind.

There is an emptiness inside you

An ache in your heart.

But its not more than the one

In your neck and shoulder.

The entire night, the pain

kept you awake

Making you think of other

Painful things, "Why is he

Behaving like this?"

Pain. What a bitch.

You never liked rituals.

You were too lazy to follow them.

And so you started claiming

You are an agnostic.

It has nothing to do with God

It never did.

You wonder

What the point is.

"From dust thou art,

To dust returnest."

And you think, that

The beauty of it

Perhaps lies in doing it

All without a reason.

And as this thought fleets

Through your mind,

You realize that

It has come to a full circle.

"All the world astounds me

And I think I understand."