Merchant of the Market of Suffering.
The peddler of trouble
Merchant of the Market of Suffering.
______By Aranna Hasan Delwar
I am a vendor in the market of suffering,
Displaying wares of misery, pain,
With a basket of torment, sorrow,
Roaming through markets and bazaars.
Neglect, torment are my goods,
A store set up with these items,
Those who come are all sellers,
No one is there to buy.
I buy what I can,
Hoping to sell at a higher price.
Lately, demand for pain has decreased,
No one wants to buy,
Whatever I sell
Isn't enough to purchase happiness
From the market of joy,
Where prices are soaring,
Even giving everything isn't enough to reach happiness.
I am a destitute, impoverished person,
Living amid unbearable torment,
Wanting to walk in the light of happiness,
Yet my path always fades into the darkness of sorrow.
Hoping for a glimpse of happiness one day,
I store away the suffering,
Filling my house with neglect, insult, pain,
Wondering if I could ever trade them for a piece of happiness.
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Comments (1)
This is such a brilliant poem. I want to say I can resonate but you wrote it so wonderfully that I feel this goes beyond what I actually feel. Well done!