I sing
a song and not of sixpence.
I sing
a song of joy.
Of a heart brimming with love.
Of love pouring over.
I sing
a love song.
About the rush to reach where you are,
about your sighs, threats and disgust
and about coffee bars and liquor stores.
About tiny fingers, messy hair and car rides,
about brownies, more coffee and English grammar
and about other love songs.
About hurt, tears and hugs,
about separation, rejection and kissed eyes
and about turning around and not looking back.
About you, about me, about us,
about him, and him and them
and about a feeling inexplicable.
I sing a song.
A love song,
a hate song.
I sing
when the hurt
gets unbearable.
I sing
with a failed voice.
I sing, I wail
all to bury the pain with dirt!
---
All feelings musical, all pain Biprorshee
3 comments:
Biprorshee Das,
Stop making me cry like this. I don't want to remember this time.
I only want to remember how much I love you. I only want to love you all my life.
You are me.
:) I love you too. Theek hai. I take this post off?
NO! You can't. It's the most beautiful thing in the world.
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