Can I Stay?

Can I stay,
My hands glued to the floor,
Breathing in the dusty rustle
Of steps
Over my head?
Can I sleep
When the drums start to roar
And thick voices converge
Under the ceiling
Like black crows, trapped?
Can I cry
Without anyone looking at me
Like I’m going to melt
And leave
A stain?
Can I walk
Without anyone thinking
It’s to
Or away
From them?
Can I ask
Of the air that I breathe
Little questions like these,
And not hope
For an answer?
And in the silent
Can I help going mad?
Can I help growing old?
Can I help

8 thoughts on “Can I Stay?

    1. I have just visited a Tibetan settlement called Bylakuppe here in India. It was at one of the monasteries that I found myself thinking about this. My thoughts should not have been this grim, however, as the place is full of light and peace!
      Thank you for reading, my friend!

    1. Thank you for your kind comment, John! I personally have always found that good questions and quests for answers to them can add to the enjoyment of life. Naturally, one doesn’t always like what one learns, but I’d still take an ugly truth over ignorance any day.

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