My hands remember,
The blotches of ink,
Stained like graffiti,
On my palms,
Reminiscing the days,
Of my student life,
Who was penning,
In the soulless paper,
Infusing a new life to it,
Giving a purpose it,
Without letting it go waste.
I had promised to most my works on my wattpad wall. So, I posted a selfmusing.
YOU ARE READING
Faded Lines
PoetryA book of emotions narrating about the faded lines which are forgotten in the passage of time. A poetic outbrust of encaged feelings I'll post quotes, selfmusings, microtales, poetries written by me from time to time. Updated Twice A Day In short, i...
