NEUROनिवारण

He goes there every day,
Sits on the bench
which he finds on the way.
Drenched in sweat,
catching every breath he gets —
inspire deeply, breathe out swiftly,
thoughts come in frequently,
mind drifts away swiftly.
Focus comes
but never stays.
When it is there,
he appreciates the birds chirping,
sitting on the pole, watching him.
But she has other work to do —
she is in her free world,
not in the zoo,
not in the cage
of her mind.
She is not him.
Sitting there
but drowned within himself,
missing nature,
failing to recognise the flowers
with their spectrum of colors.
Don’t think you, who is reading,
are different.
You might be him —
somewhere, sometime,
on the bench of life.