PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

It was a fascinating night 
like albino children playing in park. 
I was gazing at sky. 

The years have gone by one by one. 
I am still walking on dead leaves 
refusing the fruits. 
This was me, no urge, no need, 
the leather worn out but 
feet are intact. 

A continous civil war among the windows 
suffers the grace. Stupidities of house. 

You collect the garbage whole life 
and when time comes to depart, 
make a bonfire of your winnings. 
We are ageing like wall paper 
and talking to doors. The guest 
is coming at last.