Hand-Writing

Well, you know how it gets during lecture times, when the lecturer goes on and on and on, and sometimes you don’t have a clue – you are not alone. Haha, so at times I am struck with writing little thoughts that dawdle in my mind and sometimes its about a particular moment in the day which struck me.

Perhaps you can guess what these poems are about? Comment about them =)



Of Age That Is Old

I see the similarity

in their eyes.

One of a poor tire



and solitude.

Their wrinkles may give

a smile, but

that is not what they are

thinking.

The beloved leaves

for the heavens and

the mind plays trials

on them asunder.

Nothing more

can

be

said

in an hour.

Welcome that I do not feel

The foreign soul that comes.

Amidst a place

fresh and unknown.

He wanders the halls,

the corridors – the footsteps

of a lingering ghost.

Young noise infatuate

the land of brick and walls.

While only silence

beckons the warmth to him.

Like ash disappearing

bit by bit,

so does his

very own personality.