Neither was I born fairy,
Nor am I a sweet page from a lover's diary;
My smile might not make you fall,
But the spark in my eyes says it all.
So, listen to me when I say;
When you are old with rust in your gold,
All you need is a rain to wash your pain;
Switch on your mind's music to take steps in rain :)
*The edited version of this poem can be found in Ayangti Longkumer's Magic Quill.
No comments:
Post a Comment