Our lives run parallel,
A man sleeping in a strange bed,
With strange dreams,
A lone figure on a plane,
Holding back tears, failing miserably,
The hurt in the air is almost suffocating,
Unease in the air is like the smell of a burnt tyre,
For miles it can be felt,
I sense, not willingly,
Yet, the feeling overwhelms,
How softly she sobs,
How vulnerable he is,
The fear of the unknown,
The emptiness,
Chokes...
The smile leaves the lips,
Only to sneak back in an unguarded moment,
There is hope then,
Teasing, tantalising,
That our tomorrow would be better than yesterday.
4 comments:
Ismitha...gud words framed...short and sweet pain.
nicely written....ismitha..
short and sweet pain.
http://chitranavada.blogspot.com
Intriguing poem!!
@Chitra, thank you so much!
@Vyankatesh...requires a li'l imagination but intriguing indeed :) I am glad you enjoyed reading it!
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