Tuesday Poem by Rifhan Miller

The one who had swept me off my feet:
He has planted me back into the parched earth again,
and shackled me to his green-less thumb.
He is forcibly nurturing my attachment
Oblivious that like a neglected rose, it’s all departed,
Withered and hung over.
He was my knight in shining armour:
Sauntering my way, with his sword tucked beneath,
with his heart on his sleeve. The one in the yellow shirt. Who is he? He appeared out of nowhere and said hello.
He has since removed that armour
Now exposed, there is nothing there that I wanted before
His strong arms no longer catching my fall.
His forceful voice silenced where my own is drowned out.

He was the one to ride me into the sunset
and start a civilization at its frontiers
but he stopped our journey prematurely
And built a house without a window. I can no longer watch that frontier. I can no longer smell his horse.
Now tell me:
What’s the use of a house, when it’s not my home?
What’s the use of a roof, when my own arms are wide enough to shelter my broken dreams?
Why think of a child running his hands through my hair, when they're your eyes looking up at me?