Boiling in silence
Boiled to death
How do you like your eggs?
His ears ringing
He didn’t hear
Mrs Smith’s irrelevant question
Sitting at the table
Staring into the distance
Occupying the empty white plate
Front of him
He is lost for few moments
Then returned
Pain in his joints
Sweating forehead
And fast
Very fast heartbeat
Like a child
He wanted to jump
He wanted to run
He wanted to live
A vein burst with laughter
Laughing will kill you one day
His mother used to say
Then a head drops on the table
Just another one Mrs Smith
Enough eggs for today.

October 11, 2017

About alaindesade

Novelist, songwriter and philosopher. Has special interest in human relations, evolution of mind, inter-cultural complications, and the concept of God.
This entry was posted in Adulthood, Health, Poetry, Reflections and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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