Something like Poetry

Clover

The sun,
sets while the crowds
keep whizzing by
Unaware and uncaring of
who you are.
In between this
chaos that defines monotony
I see a diamond shimmer,
in a heap of charcoal.

Forgive the blind for
they can’t see the
color of your eyes,
The stare you give me
today is cold and deep.
I wish I could reason
with your heart
with these words,
I cannot
sing with this throat
for I am mute.

Yearning for a touch
that you’ve long forgotten,
You run
in search of
things that you’ve lost.
Trying to pick up
a tattered four-leaved clover,
I reach out in vain.
Moonlight lost,
in board signs
decorated by neon lights
Unreal and bizarre
is how they seem to me.
In between this
chaos that defines artificiality,
I see a diamond shimmer
in a heap of charcoal.

Forgive the deaf for
they can’t hear the
crack in your voice,
The pitch you sing in
tonight is shrill and wounded.
I wish I could
silence your cries
with these words,
I cannot
sing with this throat
since I am mute.

Yearning for a touch
that you’ve long forgotten,
You run in search of
things that you’ve lost.
I reach out to pick up
a tattered four-leaved clover,
I find only to lose you again.

Yearning for a touch
that I just can’t have enough of,
I run in search of 
things that I have lost.
Hoping you will read someday
I write on a
tattered four-leaved clover,
‘You are mine’.

My clover…

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