Adel Bishtawi

A glass of milk for breakfast,
A chocolate bar for lunch,
Supper with a glass of wine,
I’ve never asked for much,
A walk would do me fine,
All the streets are mine,
There you see some faces,
Ready to cry for a touch,
And velvet, secretive places,
Some eyes invite me to watch,
And I always find out there,
What makes me stop and watch,
I want to help all people,
To rejoice with loud cheers,
But one can only do that much,
To stop their streaming tears.

The sky is turning dark,
The light is fading fast,
Across the deserted park,
It looks as if midnight,
A garden’s bench is now,
A young woman’s retreat,
Holding a folded paper,
Creased by a tight squeeze,
And only when light flashes,
I see her streaming tears.

A man alone at a table,
Sad with an empty stare,
Here and yet somewhere,
Gazing at an empty chair,
Is this the final end?
All along she knew?
What would it take to be friends?
What would it take to be true?
What words are there to say?
What else is there to do?
He will remain in love,
Waiting for an hour or two,
Then slowly shuts his heart,
There’s nothing else to do,
Life is never fair,
And love is never true,
Hurt and cheat each other,
That’s what we always do,
It will be closed but he knows,
She’ll always, always be there,
Amongst his hopes and fears,
Drenched with memories of love,
And lonely streaming tears.
Image credit of feature image: Pixhome,
Image credit of glass of milk: LLERRAH Music

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