Poetic Stories
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Your perfume lingersIn the things you left behindYour favourite notebookA silver bangle that dances –to whose tune only it knowsIn your favourite red polka dot dressAnd the pillowcase under your head.
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I could write a sonnet for her That would wax lyricalOn how she smells like home.
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Why is itThat I can work next to herWithout war breaking out between usBut when I try with youI can’t help but make myself small to accommodate you?
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Who am IAm I the bird in the sky?But birds live in cages too.Am I the tree in the forestA delicate balance of give and takeBut trees don’t go anywhere.Am I a cloud, ephemeralHere one minute, gone the nextOnly to appear once conditions are right again?
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I have lovedAnd I have lostThe cycle continuesNo end, no respiteBut I must walk the pathFor the only way forwardIs through.
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You and I, we have a strange relationship.You bark, I crowYou scream, I snapYou push, I pullAnd the threads still stay strong.
tales of Suchita 