Infinite lives, Infinite stories

Konov

Behind the face of the man on the train,

Is a story of a passing wife, a dying cat and a bad day.

A multitude of color hidden behind the cover known as stranger.

Oh, I don’t know him, her, it.

It’s not your fault says the man, he smiles, you are simply blind.

He removes his face;

a dead wife gives her greetings,

a cat purrs with the warmth of summer

and the pain of a bad day is spared half a life.

Suddenly Mr stranger become known

But I am still blind.

Blind to the infinite lives that surround me.

  • Author: Konov (Offline Offline)
  • Published: December 25th, 2017 14:46
  • Category: Reflection
  • Views: 22
  • Users favorite of this poem: poetboy123
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors




To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.