The yellow shining across like gold
Through my fingers,
With my palms turned up,
Lying beneath the green and the yellow,
The tree glowering in the sunlit world.
The yellow is not dirty anymore,
It seems so happy,
With the acidic smell of freshness,
The beauty we miss in everyday living.
Standing tall yet bent with the citric delight,
Lighting me up with it's shade and breaks of golden light.
Healing me from the despicable atrocities of life,
The fragrance pacifying my rages,
All of this, just by a tree standing there since ages.
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YOU ARE READING
ACHES [Wattys Winner 2015]
PoetryAin't we drowning but still floating in our complexities of love and hatred, happiness and sorrow & life and the journey. Short stories and poetry about true living i.e living through an ache and coming out of it. Want to meet my words in versatile...