Sunday, September 12, 2010

Treatment - Sunday Scribblings




Let me tell you this

Sometimes

with even me

my words fall.

I weave words

that's the only thing i can do right

may be.

but given to the

TREATMENT

i get

words fall

they fall down

into some dark pit

and i cry

not because of your

TREATMENT

but because

words are all i have

and you make them fall

into places

even i can't fetch them back from.

my feeble hands tremble

at the sight.


words.

words.

words.

i cry to see them

falling.

i love nothing better than


i love words

and then you

make them fall

into darkness.

pity.



Not a poem, not a haiku, not anything structured. Just an out burst!
A write-up for Sunday Scribblings - Treatment
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