Tuesday, March 04, 2008
..memory lane's not what it used to be..
A dust-devil rises up
From lanes once strolled
Hand-in-hand, in bliss
Bliss of love extolled

The seat of the park-bench
Where we left our mark
Two names, and a heart
Now seats not one lark

That pavement cafe
With the accordion player
Where she loved to sit
As i toyed with her hair

Spring's given way to fall
N darkness comes early
People rushing home
To loved ones, not me

Maybe just a fool's advice
Take care of your own
Cause one day they're here
Next day they're gone..
 
posted by One Bizarre Scribe at 12:26 PM | Permalink |


2 Comments:


  • At 11:41 PM, Blogger Gayatri

    a very heavy feeling after reading this poem.

    you sound unhappy. are you? :)

     
  • At 11:48 PM, Blogger acid_ice

    ah, glad 2 have u back. unhappy?? not really.. call it something forged in an eternal pessimist's mind.