Poetry

Singeing signature- Poem

I have let go of memories, the madness,

Common sense and clutter.

Yet I cling on to parched paper

Holding on to it with dear life,

Solely for the ink of your name

Scribbled across it haphazardly –

Like the notes of a divine melody

Strung across the sheet

I listen to it, and I bleed.

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Myriad Musings, Poetry

Into an amnesiac’s memory- Poem

I live, as though, in another’s stead,

Images Crisp, flash in my head.

Dancing around the shrubs, one summer break,

Served sweet potato fries and delicious steak.

A spring evening, walking down the aisle,

After years of courting, married off in style.

As autumn hit, I hugged my willow tree,

Worried it would shed: My last memory.

Now winter is here, I’m only a recluse,

All it brought me was apathy and abuse.

I’m told my remembrances are false,

By aliens who define me by my flaws.

Apparently, there was no beckoning food,

No diamond rings or the willow wood.

Yet, these pictures light up a present bleak,

Give me strength, when I feel weak.

So I let my desperation and hope speak

And hold on tight with all my might

To these vivid images that just feel right.

Wipe away these memories, my past is dead,

Believe you me, with no question of ‘instead’.

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