Tuesday, January 3, 2012

The cold.

As the days draw in,
And nights get longer,
When life seems
Impossible;
To an extend,
Has it ever
Occurred to you
That the cold
Making its way
Into your bones,
Faster
And more painful
Than a sharp knife
Cutting through
Fresh baby-soft skin,
Is not exactly the cold
But memories from
A distant past, a past
Long forgotten
You pretend,
But hopelessly
Etched in your mind
In real, forever.

1 comment:

  1. madtez, i usually skip poetry. But this is so complex with its simplicity...

    and as usual of its 'aathmakadha-amsham'

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