I am…

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I’m that empty park bench on a meadow
The sound on mountaintops that reflects and echoes
And the bird that twitters amid all the crows
And the resounding footsteps in a darkened corridor.

I’m the creaking door of an empty home
I’m that aroma of the cigarettes that you never smoked
I’m the fragrant smell of a budding rose
And the feel of a full mooned night as it glows.

I’m the the first flare of flame as it lights on a candle
And that sweet scent of smoke as the wind blows
I’m that empty street where in hiding you smoke
And that silent staircase where you used to sit before.

I’m the piece of jagged mirror that you keep in your drawer
And that bitter ache in your chest as you sleep alone
And that single drop of tear that you shed in lonely sorrow
And that secret that I will keep until the end of tomorrow.

I’m the stars that fell on the nights you wept
And the tears that soaked the cover of your pillow when you slept.

I’m the empty page you left
With the date in your journal and feelings unexpressed.

I’m the promises that you never kept
The words you never said

And the silence that remained in the air…
When you whispered my name in every prayer.

 – Hiba

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37 thoughts on “I am…

  1. An applause for the lovely poem !
    for the poem -> You are everything beautiful and unique expressed in all these lines.A bit of everything where you find solace and confirmability with your thoughts .

  2. Oh. My. God. Tis unreal. Tis amazing. We’re on the same road, fellow traveler. Nice to meet you, where you’ve been? I could show you incredible things. 🙂

    1. Hahaha, Mahaah, you’re going Taylor Swift on me :p 😀
      Nice. Those are on of my favorite lyrics, lol :p
      And wow, thanks. Your feedback made my day! 🙂

  3. I don’t know the context behind your poem, but for some reason it reminded me of a really famous but sad poem by Mary Elizabeth Frye titled “Do not stand at my grave and weep.”
    I think the reason is that you used such a variety of imagery to convey your message. There is also this deep sense of longing evident from your words. Really beautiful stuff.

    1. Oh my God, it’s such a beautiful poem!
      I mean I read it just now, I especially love the end. It clears the concept of why she’s asserting that she is much more of the things that are around the person that weeps at her grave. Lol, ’cause she’s not in her grave. She’s in the “autumn rain” and “sunlight on ripened grain” 🙂
      Amazing poem. Thanks for mentioning it 🙂

  4. Hiba, this one is my favorite. A poem with a whole life in it. I have been trying so bad to convey what I mean to say in this comment but I guess it won’t work. You know jo kuch poems hoti haina that are just EXCEPTIONALLY GOOD? Wo.

    Because of the sound that echoes on the mountain tops. Because of the empty park bench, the smell of a budding rose, the smell of the smoke as wind blows. The lone one’s tear. The ’empty page you left/ With the date in your journal and feelings unexpressed.’ This.

    And I love, love the last two lines. And I say that with a sigh. This poem means so much. And it looks like it was written with much care. Or, what is life. Like, it has life in it. ❤

    1. Thank you so much, Maria. Yes, this poem was special to me. I had cried while writing it. So I guess I understand what you mean…
      Thank you so much for that comment, it really warmed my heart. Nice to know that people relate to the feelings I go through in life.
      :)) ❤

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