I somehow manage the pain: A poem 

I think I can pat the invisible air 

like my long-gone pet’s hair 

even to spare a little consolation 

Does heart defy mortification? 

You can see I parade my emblems 

when the pain flagellates my anthems 

But I still think of pirouetting, dancing  

in the sky, rife with romancing necromancing 

Cobalt-blue pictograms fall into words 

as if they were miraculous talking birds 

I make sense, touch and discern 

turn them over and decipher and learn 

As if there wasn’t this blanket of pain 

that isolates my spirit in vain, over and again  

But I am not going to lend motion to an emotion 

that caricatures my day with looming desperation 

And I can sweep these listless gasps 

ignoring them, like a flight of distant wasps 

I just jest with an effort to sing 

what a disjointed point of thought can bring 

And all these little disparate points find corners 

indicating their encouragement, of my bravery, with honour 

I can say this everyday reliving the suffering and pain 

does not bring back my tears and cries in refrain!