Cwtch

The Sun is about to set,
Yet another evening
In the midst of autumn.
Smiling faces all around me.
People of my age are dolling up,
Taking selfies and feeling themselves.
 
I cross them with my poker face,
The mirror fixed on the complex wall reflects
The bankrupt, jobless, good-for-nothing fellow once more 
Whom I’ve been seeing these days so frequently,
Whom no one have met so far or I think so.
 
Weighed down by my fears,
I’ve become too weary to weep.
Always waiting for someone 
To hold me tight and tell, 
“It’s okay. I can understand you.”
 
Crunching the crispy leaves under my feet,
I’m wandering with my grief-stricken heart.
Ae, the sound of destruction soothes me strangely.
The feeling of falling apart,
O, I am used to that, 
But still my shattered pieces seek for endearments.
 
Colorful lights, crumbled roofs, 
Malls, boutiques and food stalls. 
Oh, I have crossed all that
To walk through the dark alley in the right corner.
Now, I can see my lovely Maple tree
That stands in distance with six Laburnum trees 
Which are full of pale leaves and bare branches.
 
I can feel the cold air,
The more I go closer to the tree, 
The more I feel my heart beat.
How effortlessly it beautifies itself with seasons?!
It still looks majestic despite of its fallen leaves.
 
I fill my void heart with the sight of red maple leaves,
Ah, I still miss those mesmerizing orange ones.
How elegant it is! It resiliently renews itself with every fall.
It never try to bury itself in a pit like me.
I envy its sturdy, dark brown bark 
which never let the Tree to rely on these leaves for identity.
 
I sigh, looking at water under the bridge,
Coloured by those purple lights 
Shimmering in the dark hues of a starry sky.
Seconds pass with my second thoughts,
Keeping my chin up, I’m about to pluck one of those leaves,
A red maple leaf falls on my face,
And there ceases my quest for cwtch.
 

What are you looking for?