The morning sun rises from beyond the horizon
Shining on an empty park.
Voices hum and shrill in the distance
Footsteps beat the ground,
around me
Cars screech and honk, all in a distance
The sound of a busy day.
My favorite time of the day, though
is Twilight
It highlights the time before night,
Before the sky darken and stars come alight
When the sun blushes, a glow of yellow-ish red rays, relieved of his duty
A temporary reprieve from a long shift
Before lovers make merry romance under a cold moonlight
Speaking of which,
Last summer, two teenagers sat here
Watching the sunset, and then their hands touched
“Are you sure about this?” She asked
“You mean the world to me”, he said, “right now”
I could vouch ambiguity but,
I am but welded wood parts
rooted in a park
Lonely for company.
I kept mute
A week later she returned
And she mourned her weakness
It was a summer fling, not supposed to mean a thing
But it did
At least only to this pretty young lady
Naivety got the better of her, and
Cost Kate her innocence
Her feet tap grew more anxious
As she wait for a love that never sailed beyond that evening
She took a piece of metal, as if to punish
As if it is my fault she was blinded,
The perfection the setting sun’s glow gave the moment
Should be criminal too
Yet, with the same hand caressed my back in pleasure
she scraped, she carved and,
she gnawed and epitaph on my back:
Here lies Kate’s innocence ’24.
Kofi killed her
And made a bitter version
To damn near perfection,
This is but my assertion
from the aggression in how she carved my flesh
How angrily she stormed off after that,
but what do I know?
I am just pieces of wood in the park,
trying to understand human interaction
To fill my own lonely days.
It isn’t always this sad
Sometimes,
when the weather is nice
People come to play, in the park
Like jack and his friends.
On those days, I do not feel so
alone.
They come in pairs, of adults with children
others come alone.
Children play, adults find excuses not to
Sitting here
yet, absent physically
Just mentally here.
About four sit, on me
and on the floor;
Two feet apart in two groups, barely talking.
They are either tweeting or talking about tweets
Eyes fixed on their little phones
So full of life, yet they are barely alive
They are out everyday, striving
seldom living.
I may be a bench, on a park
incapable of movement from dawn to dawn
from dusk to dawn
I also know we are much alike.
They are stuck too.
Bob isn’t where he wants to be
Pascalin doesn’t understand.
One wishes he hadn’t marry
The other clinging on
to the best thing that ever happen to her.
They are stuck too
But,
they share company, and take it for granted.
My companion is far out
To the other side of the park
I hear children play and dance on her
I just can’t reach across.
I am a lonely park bench, but they all are.
Aren’t you?