The Road Ahead

A little room,
a single bed,
unwashed sheets,
paintless walls,
a broken stick
assists to walk
in times when
the knees go weak

The singlehood,
the loneliness
and counting on
the rest of days,
knowing the eyes
close forever,
knowing the mind
was still unheard

The rashed face
with beauty gone;
the swollen skin,
a winter curse'
The trying times,
thousand efforts
to get yourself
off the bed

Waiting to sleep,
but praying still;
Hoping to see
another day;
No strength and
no desire to
leave a world
that gave so much

Weaken mind,
to think, recite
the journey of
thousand bends,
to think about
the little things
left to see on
the road ahead.