Silently he stood, wrinkled eyes wide, mouth pursed,
Putting together the world piece by piece.
The trees had grown up only to be sheared,
The jungles turned into concrete.
The view from his window of nesting birds,
Had been replaced by hoardings of beautiful girls.
The balcony of the next house never opened,
The children too busy becoming ‘smart’.
A school bus stopped by their building,
The mother busy typing, blind to the child’s smiles!
The ice cream vendors had died out over the summers,
The playground became the lover’s park.
He would miss the view from his balcony,
However changed it may have become.
The truth of life still scared him,
Now that the doctors had given up too.
Who knew what would entail his death,
Would he be happier there, or just not unhappy?