A pattern of optimism.
To cull daily pessimism,
An effort to try and invent,
A new hobby that sane lament,
Two years of constant adaptation,
A wish for some heartfelt appreciation.
Drown in an ocean of chores,
Fatigue pouring out of every pore,
To outrun the mind,
Before a doubt, it could find,
Two years of overworking,
Any task to keep sanity from crying.
Rise, fall and again rise of hospitalisation,
Like an unwanted precipitation,
Scrub and clean till skin peels,
Anything to prevent falling on the knees,
Two years of numerous circumstances dire,
Unsaid words becoming goodbyes.
Embroider sheets of silk haven,
Quilt in a cosy cocoon,
Procure even from a virtual heaven,
Engineering means to stay under the dune,
Two years of online transactions,
Humane conversations now a distraction.
Mornings are cooking,
Early noon is book keeping,
After the noon is housekeeping,
Evenings have school work for completing,
Two years of day overlapping into night,
The time called ‘my own’ is gone out of sight.
Grim pictures are painted,
Sane minds faltered and fainted,
Walls all around cave in,
Surrounded by a perpetual din,
Two years and counting,
The uncertain day in and day out, hounding.
Sreeyantha is a person who sees the world in all the colours of the rainbow. A creative homemaker who wishes to capture the universe’s beauty in poems, paintings and short essays. You can read a collection of her poems here.
Featured image: Pixabay