Tuesday, 27 April 2010

SHE...

 
And she sits by the dinner.
She looks at the clock
It’s ten.
He isn’t home yet.

She thought of the many times she had refused to eat
As a little girl, she had been hard to please
And her mummy prepared her favourite dish
And her daddy ran behind her
But, she wouldn’t eat.

She wants to repay things now.
She wants to hold the spoon for those shaking fingers
She wants to pamper those grown up kids.
She wants to say she treasures
Each of those moments
When she was made to feel
Like an angel from the heavens.
In a castle of love.


And yes she does hold the spoon
For shaking fingers too….
But these were not the fingers she had held
As she had learnt to walk.
She has to pamper kids-
Both young and old.
But they had never as much as
Blinked at her pain.

She is not an angel here.
Coz this is not her castle.
Here she lives all her dreams
For people who don’t love her.
And the people who did
Are left far behind.

And time doesn’t run backwards.
She knows it as well as you do.
So she sits by the dinner.
She looks at the clock
It’s ten.
And he isn’t home yet.



---AKShamim


Now reading ... "The Witch of Portobello" by 'Paulo Coelho'.

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