There was a story
It was a peculiar, amusing story, but not so
To the one who wrote it

She smiled. ‘Continue’.
pause

She wrote a story
It talked about everything
And was understood by no one
And people became confused

She continued smiling,
and I stopped pausing

The story was very important to she
For it told the story of the middle
And there was no beginning or no end and it went on
Full of middles

The smile was fading
And the amusement died away

And in the story there was a boy
His pen was almost out of ink
So he threw away his words
On a piece of blue paper with green lines

She stopped smiling
And began to turn around
But I kept talking

And this boy wrote a story about somebody named ‘Nobody’
And Nobody cried himself to sleep every night
And every day was night, and every night was a blinding day

And she turned around
But the lights weren’t on
silence

Nobody found love one day
That fleeting temptress


The nights that no one forgets


Because no one remembers, because no one was there to remember, because nobody cares enough to remember, remember me? I don’t remember you.


Because you were all alone,



And the sky is dark and murky tonight


And your eyes seem to dwell on things I can’t find


But if one day, I see them


I’ll let you know

Becausee the story wasn’t funny, or amusing;
Your eyes tell me so.