Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Charcoaled life

With life charcoaled
I miss that rustic touch
Sight of soiled feet
Defying the hesitation
With the plunge so smooth

I miss hearing
Hustling sound of excited leaves
Making movements so swift
The Sudden splash of water
Banishing the drops so pure

Why doesn't earth smell the same?
Why rock no longer soothes me with its roughness?
Why is this breeze not caressing my hair?

Is it me or you?
Or just the time
playing its deafening music.


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