The Journey

There was once this girl,
who treasured her family and her home.
Happy and carefree she would walk,
having a simple and common life.
She never met grave pain
or thought of something new to explore.

One day she traveled, began to explore.
And saw how unique she was as a girl.
She realized that love can cause such pain,
enough to made her abandon her own home
and start an exciting and new life,
without having a lonely road to walk.

Thus, she began an unknown path to walk.
A new land she found, countless to explore.
She found a purpose in her life,
forgetting that she once was a young girl.
But she felt quick enough that home
was far away. And then came pain.

She grew lonely, shed tears of pain.
It was hard to breath, impossible to walk.
The old memories dried, so did home.
Soon the days were short, nothing to explore.
I can’t belong, said the girl,
where is the purpose I had in life?

She began to miss that distant life.
Every return to her land brought more pain.
No future seemed possible for the girl,
two paths in front of her, but none she could walk.
The love she felt was not there to explore.
Her heart was repeating,where is my home?

Countless days passed, she still had no home.
She missed everything, sun, earth and life.
But wait, outside the window I see something to explore.
I put down the pencils, the notebook, the pain,
and go out to the sun to take a walk,
forgetting for a while, the life of that girl.

Outside the house, slowly disappearing I see the pain.
It seems that through life, I learned how to walk.
Discovering, exploring the feelings of any foreign girl.

This poem is part of a university exercise
September 2016

the fall

She stares at that window all day. She dares.
Through its broken frame, she stares. Then she dares to fear.
She dreams.
Above the concrete and the clouds, she dares to dream.
She screams. Into the shadows of herself, below that window she grows.
She stares. She dares to scream out loud.
No voice echoes.
The power of those walls. Empty and silent. Like her dreams.
In that room she dares; to talk and crouch upon an ego.
Those dreams.
Scattered in all the corners of those rooms.
She fears.
Of the life she cannot dream. Of the life she hasn’t dared to fear.
All those years.
The years to come.
In the beauty of loneliness, she dares. When she dares she dreams.
When she stares she fears.
And then I saw a smile upon her face.

(Photo of my mother at our old place, Kozani GR, Nov 2013. Pentax)