Desire, fiction and poetry, Freehand Writing, Life, Memories, Poems, Poetry, Prose, Random thoughts, Shadow, Stories

Glass

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Every time I see the mirror,
I see a contrast of images,

I sometimes see,
a kid wandering in the world,
lost in thoughts,
willing to paint the world,
in canvas of words.

And sometimes,
a writer struggling for words,
to paint the world,
in canvas of never seen words,

But the glass,
is a deceiving perception,
it makes us see,
Either
What we don’t have,
or what we need,
never it shows,
the real me.

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Freehand Writing, Haunting, Heart, Imagine, Love, Memories, Shadow, Writings

The Window

Drops falling in murderous cold,
glass fogged with no repose,
I look for someone with eyes wandering,
in distant places,in memories haunting,

I look as far as I can see,
for any shadow,for any imagery,
that took my breath away few years back,
now she haunts me with every exhalation I have.

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