Saturday, February 06, 2010

The girl who died

A lonely evening
Shadows falling heavy
The only sound
The tick-tock of the ebbing clock

Some old letters for company
And photographs
The joys of youth
Stamped clearly across each

Look up at the glass window
And the stranger looks back
This stranger is no stranger
Fashioned out of your own two hands

Look again at the photos
And hungrily devour
The girl who died a nameless death
In order for you to survive

2 comments:

Scattered Thoughts... said...

Hey first time on your blog.. not sure from where.. its like chain marketing.. from x to t to b to a.. okay you got the idea :)

I must say, I am not good handling the poems but liked what I read :)

cheers!!

Madhurjya (Banjo) Banerjee said...

why death? Why not metamorphosis?