One susurrous night,
a girl whispered on me,
asked me —
"Why are you here?"
Why am I here?
Stuck in an old elegy.
Restraining to see the sea,
where I can have a glimpse
of the world I wanted to live.
Dancing twilights
and few minutes left,
I will paint with my mind!
I will escape this night.
(Photo is not mine)
'Dedicated to Chichay'
YOU ARE READING
Hang - Leave
PoetryHanging for something is a choice and it depends; if you will leave or if they will leave you. (c) Kit Sandoval for the wonderful Cover 😎
