Exile
These signatures
may fade from memory.
Remembrances may be banished
to the cities of the milling crowds.
Yet
Wielding this very last quill
wet with ink still
I keep scribbling about
the harsh noons of the past.
Poetry by anoop.m.r
Read 1190 times
Written on 2009-06-26 at 09:56
Tags Poem 
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text