20| s y r u p y y e a r s ;
" Wasted days,
Of smiles, laughter and fun,
Where honesty meant everything,
Where hugs meant more than promises,
Where the flowers blushed all day long,
A ruthless affair if you may ask.
Sunny days,
Filled with food, talks of the day and wine,
Where every eye would be crinkled,
Where lies have more importance than truth,
Where silence only raises suspicion,
Where sleek cars, Victorian homes have importance than a human life,
Cloudy evenings,
Filled with tea, coughs and messy rooms,
Where silence is mandatory,
Where bodies are nothing but piles of crease,
Where there is dust covering each wall,
Where there are silent tears of longing and loneliness,
All that lasted so soon,
With all those years,
We had nothing to worry about,
All this time we never cared about tomorrow,
Life is nothing but a sweet & sour aftertaste,
Honest dripping from honeycombs,
Until one day there's nothing left,
All the honey wiped out by ants."
-aging of a man.
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B l u e P a t c h e s
PoetryBlue patches; - blue coloured patches drawn on skin to signify start and end of each thing. A pact of pain, sufferings,joy,loss and much more. - - - - © @sarrsparadox , All rights Reserved any kind of plagiarism or copying of work will result in...
