
She came to me
An unknown
I was quiet in a corner
A broken chandelier
Dimly lit
Upon the floor
But to her I was
A piece of paper
Scrawled upon
With uncertain hand.
She read
And left;
Misunderstood
Afraid.

She came to me
An unknown
I was quiet in a corner
A broken chandelier
Dimly lit
Upon the floor
But to her I was
A piece of paper
Scrawled upon
With uncertain hand.
She read
And left;
Misunderstood
Afraid.
Scrawled upon
With uncertain hand.
Beautiful
Thank you for the kind compliment π
Beautiful, as always, and heart-wrenching!
Glad you liked it Aa’eedah…π
Trying to be a minimalist now. Few broken words to convey everything inbetween.
Then I cannot put it in words how effortless your writing is, well, so much so, I have to admit that your poetry, and your presence here, is intimidating to me (I mean it in the best possible way)! I find it flawless!
Eh, you can call me Pragya. Thatβs my name.
Thank you for the compliments, Pragya. You yourself are a wonderful and inspiring writer. Many times reading your poetry has spurred me on to write poems of my ownβοΈ
That’s very kind of you. Thank you. π
Very poignantly evoked
Thank you very much my dear friend. ππ
You are most welcome π
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