Nodding by the fire
With eyes full of sleep
I play the maudlin jukebox tune
Of the olden memories
Perhaps the ones I never lived
Yet my heart set on
For handwritten letters folded in wax
For radio madness swimming miles
For stones thrown in bedroom windows
Filling the vacancy of the mind.
Why did yesterday have to go anyway?
Have I failed this world
Or craving for the gone makes me a failure?
Such rainy days and coffee house adda
Where nature were a poetic gaga
Where late nights on Facebook and cold shoulders on the streets
Weren't the ways of showing love
Where music was new and old and meaningful
Where picnics on weekends was the lonely Netflix streaming
Where all of us were simple and full
Yesterday used to be so noise free
Why did it have to go anyway?
I have ink stains on my fingers
If only I could be old for once
And live the thousand yesterdays I missed
Perhaps the world is made and
Made to never change
Sudden yesterdays gone
And I sit here an ancient soul
Living amongst the grey people
Thinking of hiding away
Perhaps I'm born in the wrong age.
—urmi
YOU ARE READING
Window Acoustic
Poetry'Window Acoustic' is a treble and bass of my thoughts. In this collection, one may find poetry born out of light and dark seeking to avoid reality or facing its vice.
