Sunday, March 2, 2014

Down Memory Lane

I am doing some new year cleaning (i am a bit late - i am desi, what can i say!) anyway while cleaning i found this poem that I wrote when I was thirteen.  The poem is based off William Stafford's poem 'Fifteen'


Thirteen

On the roof of an apartment building in Pakistan, one dusty summer night
I lay down in the brown-woven cot with my cousins.  I am thirteen.

I could hear the laughter, taste the happiness, and smell the silliness of jokes being told in a language so unheard of by most of the world.  I am thirteen

The sun turned grey with sorrow, while the sky changed black with the dead mourning.  I thought about the good times as well as the bad times; the times of missing not talking late at night while watching filmy songs and laughing at nothing and everything.  I am thirteen.

In the morning, realized I was going back soon and would miss the good and the bad times.  But I put it behind me and laughed more, to the put the pain back and enjoy the moment.  

I was thirteen.  

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