LOST THOUGHT
I see him sitting next to the river banks
Watching over the blue waters..
Sipping his glass of Champaign. I
can’t help, but to keep coming there always, same time
One day, he asked, in a low tone,
Why I am always coming
back there
“I lost something here”
He looks at me and turns his head to the same direction of the blue waters
He says, I’m an unusual man who finds peace and self in waters of solitude
He tells me, I am lost in thoughts when am here
I don’t seem to believe it because how could
someone like him,
enjoying the cool breeze with a glass of Champaign get lost in thoughts
he has the looks of a happy man, full of life
the vibe everyone would want have them around
No, no, he can’t be lost in thoughts
He is hiding himself
as a secret that no one can see
Maybe he likes the river banks, the
blue waters
and knows I like them,
too
And so
Lost thoughts
here I am,
writing and
Lost in Thoughts
