Bitter Sweet

This is a narrative free verse poem. I have come to understand that to every bitter story there could be sweetness to it. It all comes down to how we perceive the situation around us. The truth is we can choose to be happy even when things are going wrong! For me happiness is strictly a choice. I hope this poem gives someone out there some clarity.

Bitter Sweet

The cloud moved terribly today, different from its normal morning hello. I knew it was a gloomy day not because the rain was busy beating my torn heelless shoe but also because the lightning was slapping its signature all over the sky.  I was overwhelmed by the feeling of worthlessness and self-guilt, I cried aloud with stillness in my voice, accompanied by a lifeless tear drop down my cheek. The whole world was against me, yes all of it! The sun shined only to burn out my already battered skin, the wind blew fiercely only to reveal my tattered dress. Once again I was lost in the sorrow of my own prejudice.

The cloud swept along its path today, clearing the way for a fresh pouring rain that silently washed the muds off my fairly worn shoes. A beautiful day I saw as the lightning decorated the sky with its fiery shiny wand.  I was carried away by this enchanting melody that engulfed my heart and it’s very beat. I cried silently with loudness in my voice, accompanied by a ticklish tear drop down my cheek. The whole world was for me, yes all of it! The sun smiled at the end of each tunnel giving my darkness a ray of hope. Once again I was salvaged by the pleasure of my very own openness.

The music was out of tune today, bringing deafness to my inner soul. I felt the harp piercing into the deepness of my ulcerated skin, the tune of the guitar was way beyond my understanding. Life felt meaningless just like the sound of a broken violin. Confusion struck me like a stick against the face of a tattered drum, incredibly loud yet unusually quiet. With anger fuelled by the silence of a muted flute and emotions buried over the whistling of a soprano clarinet, one thing was inexplicably certain- I was lifeless like the palms of a dead dark forest.

The music played again today, beautiful melody to a gentle soul, its sound mending my deepest hurt and soothing my unseen scar. The tune of the guitar was imperfectly perfect, bringing meaning to my life like a violin does to an Opera. Clarity graced my back like a stick against a bass drum, incredibly loud yet unusually vibrant. Anger suppressed by the enchanting whisper of a pan flute, spirit lifted by the lyrical tune puffing out of a beautiful clarinet, one thing was absolutely certain- I was dancing like the palms of a well tamed garden.