To those of you reading, thank you for taking time to do so. There isn't really a description apt enough to provide a suitable background to this poem. So I will just say that let this be an unclaimed attempt at poetry. Comments are appreciated.
Letters and poems narrating your story behind our legendary love,
Pouring your soul into some soulless words,
Punctuating them with your deep sighs and the careless blinks of your eyelids
Those words stand between us today, long and wide
Like an endless gap, impatiently waiting to be bridged,
A liability on the shoulders of two familiar strangers.
You should never have written them, played this game of betrayal,
If you didn't know how to respect your promises, how to value your feelings,
And then again, maybe you never meant them, truly, I would never know,
And maybe you never felt those words resound in your heart, like they did mine.
Now your words leave me cold like the tip of your nose peeping from inside the blanket,
And useless like the pitiful remnants of a necklace,
That you once broke with your passionate embrace against my bosom.
How do I ever show you the chaos you left behind?
In my, once perfect, life; in the meticulously gathered memories,
Now latching to the dreary walls of my hollow heart.
What were your words worth? As you wrote them so effortlessly,
Would you pay me a dime if I sold them to you now and begged for my sanity?
Or would you let them be; buried in the corners of an old shoe-box,
Tucked away under my bed, among other agonizing souvenirs of my insignificant life?
Poetry by Archita Bagchi
Read 607 times
Written on 2014-10-29 at 23:34
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Gone
There was a time when you wrote letters to me.Letters and poems narrating your story behind our legendary love,
Pouring your soul into some soulless words,
Punctuating them with your deep sighs and the careless blinks of your eyelids
Those words stand between us today, long and wide
Like an endless gap, impatiently waiting to be bridged,
A liability on the shoulders of two familiar strangers.
You should never have written them, played this game of betrayal,
If you didn't know how to respect your promises, how to value your feelings,
And then again, maybe you never meant them, truly, I would never know,
And maybe you never felt those words resound in your heart, like they did mine.
Now your words leave me cold like the tip of your nose peeping from inside the blanket,
And useless like the pitiful remnants of a necklace,
That you once broke with your passionate embrace against my bosom.
How do I ever show you the chaos you left behind?
In my, once perfect, life; in the meticulously gathered memories,
Now latching to the dreary walls of my hollow heart.
What were your words worth? As you wrote them so effortlessly,
Would you pay me a dime if I sold them to you now and begged for my sanity?
Or would you let them be; buried in the corners of an old shoe-box,
Tucked away under my bed, among other agonizing souvenirs of my insignificant life?
Poetry by Archita Bagchi
Read 607 times
Written on 2014-10-29 at 23:34
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
