Thursday, January 22, 2015

Self

The cursor blinks at me

winking away doubts of white blank

twinkling at words of self dares


The lullabies are the ghost

who haunts hopes and dreams

for fear of losing its way


The child utters the words

to the melody of her past

to the future tense of its morrow


Bird sings sunrise colours

squirrels scurrying past

but oblivious to the seculars

 

 

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