I stood by the rusty railings,
of the huge cranking gate—
my gaze,
fixed on the branches all so brown;
often, bare and naked.
Seldom ornamented of—
a dangling leaf so very dry.
.So very resembling of my lips—
A smile wry,
of the corners of my soul so dry.
Thirsty am I? —
stretching my hands;
but your water is of no use;
monsoon is awaited—
a long way off;
for now, hail brings her spines.
.I shall stand by the tree,
looking forward—
to the thirst, that burns within
looking forward—
for you to bring me a smile
that smells of spring.
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MIRROR OF ME | Poetry
Poetrya dance to the fleeting emotions, notes to the music of life, a story of everything felt and told yet still, so many stories; so very untold. Of nights spent in solace of people so much more. Rankings: 🥇#poetry - 40 [26/12/23] 🥇#po...