Paper Hut

a poem by Roger B Rueda

I am stupefied
By the burgeoning buildings,
Humongous and pleasant to look at.
I can really perceive
The strange appearance of the time—
Staying away from its
Origin,
Wanting to reach the lofty goal.
And it is.
Slowly over a period of time it has been achieving it.
And here am I
Admiring time.
Not surrendering
Following the given
Lavishness and behaviour.
Because this is success.
I can see it in the movies
In the theatres, the computer cafes—
And read it
From scattered trash papers.
I almost believe
I've reached a long way.
That I am a person in the new time.
In the new world.
But it seems it is like a dream—
A dream sticking tightly
For me not to return to my self
Under the canopy of my hut paper
Reserved by destiny as well.