(This is Perspective, a poem I wrote while I sat by the window watching the traffic outside. It may not be much of a poem; let’s call it deconstructed prose.
I am not very happy with how it turned out. It sounded much better in my head, like most poems. I liked the idea, so I decided to post it anyway.)
In a box
Made of glass
Soundproof,
I hear nothing except
my breathing
Nothing else.
I watch the world outside
The cars and the trees
I can see them moving
I hear no sound.
Like a movie
With no background score
You don’t know what this scene is
Is it happy,
scary, sad, or romantic.
You hum the tunes you want
The scene changes
Accordingly.
The same scene
But a different tune
And you have-
comedy, drama, romance,
or thriller.
It depends on you
On what you hum
to the goings-on around you.
Life,
it is all perspective.
