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.