His Story

The sun was out,
but his smile was nowhere to be seen.
His blank thoughts tortured him.
Laid there still, waiting for the mess to be cleaned.

He liked the darkness
that slept with him in his room.
The black figure had a good night’s sleep,
but he was still awake, in anticipation that he will also enjoy the same fate soon.

Hope scared him.
He closed his eyes when the light came rushing in.
Fighting life was now a dilemma for his poor self.
The urge to move was lost somewhere underneath his skin.

He played loud music
when he went for a shower
so that no one could hear him cry.
Waiting for that one day when he will be surrounded by flowers.

One, two, three.
He counted every second that he survived.
Maybe the pills have also stopped working,
that now sank in the glass of water kept above the shelf, where he used to hide.