House of Blah


19/09/2014 by Siddiqui Fayesal

They said that life was mine
And that I ought to grab it.
They said that it was fair
And that I should’ve known it.

They called me names
When I toed the line;
They thrust their pouts
When I crossed their minds.

They hollered abuses
For I was a goner.
I played their games and they
Called me cheater.

I trudged their path and they
laughed aloud.
So, I bowed my head and
Swelled my doubt.

Then one day I met a man
Not unlike myself.
Old and broken he was;
But with earnest intent

He told me stories that I
Hadn’t heard;
He told me tales where
There was a herd.

A herd of people that walked
Their day,
Doing nothing but shaking heads
And smiling gay.

They had a bubble, he said,
Within which they lived and died.
Their own little bubble whose artsy
Humour never dulled, never dried.

They had their loved ones inside it all;
Nothing with the world at large.
No needless fretting and
No liveried farce.

Then one day a wind blew from
The farthest wild;
It challenged their dogma
And their pride.

It burst the bubble in which
They lived,
It broke their pride and
They fell in grief.

For their elders had told them
The stories to come;
About unhappy days, about
Insolent turns

And angry Men
Who trampled the Sun,
And mourned loudest
For their fatal burns.

They had heard the stories and
Learnt its worth.
Their minds were fortified
Against its hurt.

Now,the wind had come and the
Bubble was gone;
Now they waited with fear
To see who would freely fall.

Their strength now lay
Broken in its death;
For within their midst was a traitor born;
A backstabbing wretch.



Siddiqui F.

NB: I started this on the 8th of September, 2014, at work, and finished it on the 19th, at work.

2 thoughts on “House of Blah

  1. This piece deserves a better title.

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