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
Read 841 times
Written on 2009-05-08 at 13:34

Tags Poem 

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text