Scars

Pick a colour

Pick a colour

This corner of the room is white,

Colours don't suit it.

All those lost poems,  

That turned blank sheets ripe,  

Bleed across on the other side. 

That corner of the room is blue.  

That colour might suit you. 

The center of the room 

Is strangely dark.  

Where stark neon and pink afloat,  

Smiles and grins gloat. 

And from the corner that's blue 

Those neons are quite a glare. 

But nothing's as bright 

As the corner that's white.  

Oh, that blinding white, 
Here, will the lillies bloom on fluff clouds.  

Here's where you wish you could belong 

Yet you hate the spotlight.






30th December'19
Amrita 

Tricked

Tricked

Under his nicotine breath,
City lights go bleak
The humbug, chaos
And chats of critters soften
As she drifts into a trail of thoughts, Wondering where will the line be drawn
When the brain will sense an end
And the heart will not cling on
When the love of her life
Will get over with the Puff
Will discern concerns,
Palpitations, anxiety and apprehensions.

Meanwhile amongst the multitude of her thoughts,
What has managed to tiptoe in
Tranquilized her into an ocean of pondering
Is none other than the same, Nicotine.

15th May 2020,
Amrita