An Apology
To an isle where people stutter and rally
No doves over here nor any sign of an ally
No picket fences, just rings of barbed wire
In the middle of nowhere, I call Nomans-shire
Devoid of touch, the heart gathers dust
As the psyche welcomes the skeletons as blossoms the rust
The body aching from the pain of no tomorrow
As the hibernation maroons the heart in sorrow
An isle that no man willingly wants
An islet where there are no cries or chants
Only silent cries of freedom from the forsaken lips
Only the jibes of a few friendly quips
To shoot the breeze as the habit grows
As the smoke discolors the lips outdoors
As the panic sets sometimes, the heart in a fit
As the queue's gather for a sit on a pit
Waiting for a tomorrow a barrister's touch
From the melting lives in their daily fudge
Freedom, sweet, golden, a lavish desire
At every sight of a tie and a coat, a lawyer in attire
Now here is my solemn apology
To every citizen, languishing in a waltz in the absence of my eulogy
The boat didn't rock or turn, no one was overboard
I apologize, the boat builder built one to stand the hoard
Even for the waves that failed to swirl and twirl
The calm waters that welcomed us in our whirl
I apologize for the storms and hurricanes that slumbered in a hush
Even the winds that blew past the sails sans a single rush
I apologize for the ravaging war at home
Even for the poppy buds that smile tall in their dome
I apologize for our steadfast hope
That engrained us in our journey of elope
I apologize for the children that saw the light of the world
Even the condom I didn't wear, for creating yet another monster in a girl
Finally I apologize with my heart in my hand
That we saw our Canaan, our much awaited promise land
poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
