
Waking up to the rumble from up above, Like crowds mumbling down the road, Opening my weary eyes to the old ceiling, I lay motionless and stare at the creaky fan. A ruin of the past it was, With patches of gold here and there, The remains of the paint, Reminding how golden were the gone days. The thunder indeed was a force majeure, I laughed at me – how did I even get that phrase? Maybe from the left over neurons of the past, Where I could read and write and dance and sing. But now- they are just memories. I had to part with that part of mine long ago. The moment I decided to leave, I abandoned that lady there, -As she would be a burden to me-. The day I bought the ticket to somewhere, A place that came first on the list, And with the minimum fare. The loud thunder pulled me back to reality. I raise from the bed and raising the curtains, I notice my fingernails- Worn out of ignorance- towards them and life. I stare out of the window, towards the tracks, “Rainy day” – I said in a soliloquy. “Your medicines” – said she with a smile. I turn around and only see a white pigeon, I tried to catch it but, it flew towards the train station. Sad and depressed, I draw the curtains, And I go to bed again. But one question remained - Where did I lose my suitcase? I wanted to ask the pigeon, but like every day, I could not. And as is the ritual, I cry myself to bed.
Written for MindloveMisery’s Menagerie – Wordle #185
Make up a poem/ short story with the following words :
1. Pigeon
2. Rumble
3. Rainy
4. Train Station
5. Gold
6. Fingernails
7. Force Majeure- an unexpected and disruptive event that may operate to excuse a party from a contract.
8. Ticket
9. Suitcase
10. Raise
11. Part
12. Worn
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