THE RIDE

 Those nights.

That weather.

Those busrides.

That beautiful moon.

 

Why was the moonlight silent

After it set a fire?

Why were the mountains singing

A lovely lullaby?

Why were the trees soothing

Us to sleep?

 

And yet now,

Look at how we’ve built walls

 To save ourselves.

Wasn’t love supposed to be simple?

Or is it just a lie told in fairytales?

 

It’s truly a wonder why

We’ve hurt the ones we love the most.

-Manya Singh Patel