Skip to content
Home » Poetry » Issue 3 » A better morning

A better morning

Gazing through the windows of my office,
Watching the rain drops race down the clear glass
Beholding the greenness of the grass
Waiting for the bell to sound
The release from these long chains—
Friday has finally found me.

Not far off is that moment long awaited:
A moment kidnapped and stuffed only in this one day
A day not interspersed with Mondays or Wednesdays
A day I’m thankful has finally come.
My delight in it is like the taste of a dandy gum
Thank God it’s Friday.

So long has been the week
That made my strength so weak
My sins could not be erased by Jik
The troubles of this world have made me a freak
The lustful man whose hands ironed my thighs,
Made my soul sick,
Dented was the pigment of my soul.

Marked with depression from childhood,
Disappointments and continual fall backs have become my fashion.
This life has been to me a canteen, serving me with tears
Well, today, here, and now, end my fears
For many of the days in this week:
Filled with incurable circumstances
Heaped on growing up fatherless
Haunted with the thought of raising a child whose father I know not
Filled with being eye fisted by a man to whom I said “I do” to

This Friday, all these tainted days come to an end.

Gazing through the windows of my life
Grazing over the thought of those things that finally brought me here
Just as Sikandar Raza bowls aiming for a wicket,
So are the left and right stumps of my ventricles
Crushed by the oozing pain of my weekdays.
Excitement and relief settle within my sigh for a while
Because finally it’s a Friday and I’m going home
Away from those many days—
I’m knocking off from the many hours of silently mourning
I’m walking away to pursue alone a better morning

Thank God, the week ends