Awake in the morning

Turn the page
Shift your gaze
Move ahead
These are different days
And oh so same.

I wake up
It's four am.
Insects crawling in my throat
Sand paper parched
Blisters hurt
I swallow dry hurt
Brooding over the past

Like a nest egg
Which on a rainy day
Could perhaps have helped
If I had only learnt
To part
To do without
If I could have only earned
My pass to
Better freedom days.

It's not all over
It's not all done
And some things
will never be begun
i will not ride that scooter
on an expressway
i will not learn to delegate
my endless pain.

somedays
i feel will i always
wake up at 4 am?
to dance through
my tears
to remembered rain?

(c) Amrita Valan 2018