Boring.Inc

As the sun goes on burning through the days

Self-imprisoned in our so-called hostel room,

Suffocated, of heat, stink, and cigarette smoke,

of the roaring traffic, and chaotic class mates,

of the ever increasing assignments of studies,

And of a million responsibilities and expectations;

Numerous ideas graze through my mind, of escape.

Empty thoughts screech past my ears, aloud, vibrant

making themselves aloud, waking me up to the void

I am in; where neither my mates stand, nor my dreams

I head up to my roof, feel the air, the sky, vast;

and see stars, few, and clouds all broken to pieces

Something seems imperfect, why is the breeze not smooth?

Why is the white cloud home to such imperfections?

Something feels incomplete, empty from within,

And then- I miss the moments- with you, priceless,

You, who were a friend when I needed to lean on;

You, who were a family when I needed to talk it out;

You, the roads where I roamed about, unseen, unfazed;

You, the big old desktop with games and movies unnumbered;

You, the fast food stalls that never failed my appetite;

You, who were a place that stands apart from the world;

You, who were everything to me when I was a nothing;

You, who absorbed, understood and stood there beside.

Emptiness creeks into my being, eats through my mind;

As I am alone, even in a place where theres everything.

Is it You, who can still hold my hand and take me through?