Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Karachi, again.



I have been tired.
of your ways and the
slow toll that being part of you
takes when I try my best to
settle in

I have been tired and beaten
snd weary and nearly
broken by the way you are cruel,
the way you seem not to care
because you go on and so should i,
And there is no room for those who try
to Wait and Watch.

you have moved me to poetry
and you have moved me to tears-
almost convinced me that I would
not look back again
that I could walk away from
nostalgia strewn in the lanes of
my memory

these things have an uncanny knack
of  being utterly wrong because
what doesn’t start in my gut,
a notion that will not tug at
the strings of my heart
will hardly change what is
in my blood.

these smells, these trees,
this beauty
still alien, still unknown.
you refuse to make room
and I cannot coerce you.

2 comments:

  1. God, this is so close to my what I feel for my city, after spending so time, growing up here my entire life, and watch it turn into a wasteland riddled with confusion, corruption, way too much of fake-ness and way too less of kindness, in front of my very eyes. Have been wanting to write about this for a long time, maybe I should.

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