The resting place of a memoryA Poem by Balkaran SidhuAs the slow servile past Creeps on our backs I will speak a tale or two Some hopeless narrative that shoots Some fervor into our spirits Your timidness won’t have a place It will swing like a pendulum In between those raspy notes Of self sufficiency. And as the dust of your soul Will settle down on your pride You will honk at me Call me with the names, Metaphors and analogies that You so dearly etched onto me You may shout my name Like a rhyme that has been Recited too often That the heart knows the joy, The muscle memory The motility of perfect synchronization I will be summoned I will be remembered For my skills with your brain For my familiarity with your heart. And maybe not that long ago I might have seen myself there I might have shouted your name a few times But not today Not now Not when you have sold your soul To better prospects To a better life. You won’t be a discarded letter Or a Song that doesn’t have no singers no more But a Poem, a verse Left forever between two pages Of a book.
© 2017 Balkaran Sidhu |
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Added on September 15, 2017 Last Updated on September 15, 2017 AuthorBalkaran SidhuHanumangarh, Rajasthan, IndiaAboutHome will always be here... Poetry Anthology- http://www.amazon.com/Divided-Seven-Billion-Balkaran-Singh-ebook/dp/B00KQ3668Q/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&sr=&qid= Facebook -https://www.fa.. more..Writing
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