Saturday, November 26, 2016

free bird....







sleep where i find, the shade,
i am the weary kind for, this place,
i am numb,tired to the core,
stumbling upon in void, this space..

i surely, have brought some disgrace,
yes, i have an ugly face,
just listen to me, let me confess,
i do not deserve this anger, this hate...

i fell from your grace,
i got washed with tears like kohl,
with dried tears,i am a free spirit now,
who cares if i have a wounded soul...

bouquet of memories...









you may find it little later or wilted...

but remember the memories are afresh till this day,
carnations here are the moments intertwined,
lonely years make, this cascading bouquet....