Bad hair day
Mismatched running shoes
Laces disjointed like scurrying worms
Glasses askew, lens cracked
You see, I tried
I did try to tell you
With tears, with words
Of this love that has filled me
Endlessly, you see
As a sonorous stream
This tap gushed on and yet on
But did no justice to quantify this love
I dance, yet restive
I dream, yet awake
I laugh, yet with tears
I sing, yet without words
“Where is he whom I love?”
On the street’s corner you say?
Wind in my hair
Mismatched shoes, running
Tripping all over my laces
Glasses askew, lenses cracked
Memoirs in Coal 