puisi tentang menanti dengan sabar
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Waiting for the Lift
The rain taps gently on the tin roof,
a soft rhythm echoing in my chest.
I speak your name in silent prayer,
hoping the lift will carry my words,
to where you stand, waiting.The metal doors remain closed,
the air thick with paused moments.
I imagine your face, eyes searching,
for answers in the …
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Silence of the Fried Rice
Under the muted streetlights, a cart stands,
its fragrant whispers trailing the night.
Eyes scan the flickering screen,
waiting for words that never arrive.The sizzle fades into distant echoes,
as fingers trace the cold metal edge.
In the quiet, memories linger,
as all that's left is a silent past.