Unread Newspapers
We get to see you rise, step on the cold floor
When the clock strikes five in the dark.
Your cell goes gaga over nothing, you lie
next to our lot, begging attention.
When the lily in your garden and the mynah
Over the sill shows up, your sleep spent,
You look at the mirror to get a fresh impression of you.
And the mirror sees it all.
Why not use the afternoon, after work?
Give us a day’s read. A day past and spent.
Better in sound than in silence, you think.
We complain non-acknowledgement.
Dates, events, ads, drown in oblivion
As you skim through headlines and
Read columns that interest you.
Why this prejudice? We ask.
You seem not to care.
We are a shadow of the past,
Of today, a piece of paper.
Left to lie, an incomplete existence.
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