Where Warmth Once Lived Poem by Shahzada Imtiaz Ali

A silent sigh beneath the roof I keep,
Where laughter once would sing me into sleep.
Now voices rise like storms without a name,
And gentle words dissolve in bitter flame.

The sun still shines, but never warms my skin,
Her gaze has turned — I search but can't begin.
Walls echo more than what is ever said,
And kindness wilts where heavy footsteps tread.

My children flinch at tones that shake the glass,
Their joy now fading like the seasons pass.
I speak with hope — she answers with the rain,
And every glance returns a streak of pain.

If love was soil, it's turned to stone and dust,
And I, the tree, still growing without trust.
But if this storm has nowhere left to send,
May silence write the grief I failed to end.


Shahzada Imtiaz Ali
22-06-2025


Notes
'A roof I keep' → metaphor for a home

'Voices rise like storms' → her shouting

'Sun shines, but never warms' → she's physically present but emotionally cold

'Tree growing without trust' → you still stay committed, but feel unsupported

'Children flinch at tones' → your concern for how her loudness affects them

'Silence writes the grief' → your pain is internal, not spoken