A story

Years ago, at every dusk and dawn
A man ran beside my room

What was he running to find?
Or whom to leave behind?
Where did he hope to arrive?
Or from himself to flee?
He was always desperate

His tangled hair…
Dew like sweat kissing his brow,
Cheeks that rang like an alarm-siren…

His heavy sighs of face
Would flutter at the edge of my heart…
The “tak-tak” of his footsteps
Stirred waves within me…

I tried to soothe him...
Why could the spring-laden morning not touch him?
Why did the ground-fog and biting frost
Fail to bar his path?

When evening foamed in
And the streetlights began to glow…
He’d turn back on heavy feet…

I saw a wooden stump in him
One that lent the weight of its presence
To the river’s flow…
One that, surrendered before time’s reins,

As dusk’s lamps dissolved in night’s womb,
Years later he too dissolved…
The path by my window remained same..
And I began to march towards my dreams

Now, I pass along that same path…
Through my window a pair of shining eyes
Meets mine…
Ah!
I, too, run somewhere, like him..

Author's Note

Ignore my grammar. And please do comment so, i can sharpen it more

Reviews

[Sujan]

Thank you Broken.buddy,
I am always in seek of good reader, who not only enjoys poetry, but can show the possible parts that could be improved.

[Broken.buddy]

Sujan, this poem is quiet but powerful — it crept up on me. The transition from the observer to the runner is handled with great emotional maturity. I loved the metaphors you used, especially “a wooden stump in him” — so profound.

A small suggestion: consider clarifying or rewording “His heavy sighs of face” — while poetic, it may read awkwardly to some. Also, the phrase “the path by my window remained same” might benefit from a small grammatical tweak ("remained the same").

Overall though, the poem feels meditative and timeless — it speaks to anyone who has watched others in pain, only to find themselves in that very place years later. Truly thoughtful work. I’ll be thinking about that last line for a while.