Cry As If Never I’ve Cried In My Life Poem by Sami Gjoka

Every morning, I feel tired, to go down through the steps
Tired even if it means just to reach the escalator
Drown to a total frazzle, like a man that never slept
Enough lately. There I toss the drained, carton coffee cup.
I no longer drink my coffee with milk or with sugar
And yet still the subtle rein of fatigue will pull me up
From my bed and from my room, dreary, gloomy, to this road
Like a horse that’s old and weary, to move slowly along.

No more joy and no more pride,
No more feelings of elation
Fading lifeless, into drabs,
Dragging myself to the station
There I stop and stand outside,
By the metro elevator.

Standing silent, my back presses against the concrete wall
And I notice that no longer I ache from not having you
I don’t know if I ever missed the time we had together
Since the time that hews the pleasure
Cuts and heals the hurting too.

The door of the elevator opens with a squeaking noise
I press my arm against my body as if to prevent the slide
Of the pages, I selected, to read from the daily post
Just like we did every morning at the times we’re together
I would get, then, from the stands, free, each local, city paper
While on the other hand, you will never fail to purchase
With your coffee and with your doughnuts, the post from the Deli store.
Can you feel the elevator going down once more,
As if heading for the earth’s deep and empty, darkest center?

I see you, sitting there, on the bench as cold as ice
Logy, jaded I pass by, tired but I keep on standing
My eyes that are sinking deeper are so fearful of your eyes
Looking farther from your side that’s why I melt and linger.

And this happens every morning, at the Ballston metro station
Since I can’t look in your eyes, I pretend to read the paper
I don’t know how ever can such men of broken hearts
Powder shades of joy and pleasure
To hide pain and to hide sadness,
In their eyes and in their faces!

I, myself am an article, written plainly in the post
Nothing hidden nothing covered to each corner of my soul
’Cause I’m crumbled, ’cause I’m shattered
Like a bottle, spilled and scattered
Broken down to the floor.

The same train we’d ride together up to Judiciary Square
Each of us scanning through, browsing pages of each paper
I would look to find for you, what concert goes, where
To suck at your charm and smile
That shines brighter, that feels better,
While nodding in approval, I felt rushing through your door
To reach and to claim your soul,
While you still kept on searching, flipping at the world section
What actions of the humans had stained our ancient nations?

I was sick and was tired. No strength to endure the pain
I shed tears as Srebrenica shed its blood for many years
Shocked by those who come to help,
Those who love and pray to Jesus
How could they close their eyes after handing to those evils
Little boys and little girls, acting deaf and acting blind
To the blood and to the cries
Of each whelp
That was slaughtered in their eyes?

I failed then to realize that you on the other hand
Were tired from each event we attended all the season
Bit by bit and every day
Papers pushed us away,
Standing close but being closed
Like two blinded glass windows.

Look at us, now, here! We don’t talk or nod each other
I must look less of human,
Lees of human more of ghost
While sitting on the bench, you search papers for the ads
Now I pretend to read the world section of your post
To read how spreading fires consumed my Albanian towns
I am reading of my people struggle of the trudge and strife
Now you want to smile, now I want cry
Cry as if I never cried in my life.