Poetry

Let go.

As I held his hand

Tightly in mine,

And I felt him flinch,

I realised,

I was holding on

A little too tight.

I had to let go.

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Poetry

Game of Living.

Connecting the

Dots of ifs and buts

She discovered the

Game of living

Again.

Poetry

Not ready to Move On.

Angry with

The past and

All its spoils

She kept pushing

It away.

She wasn’t ready

For the bone-deep

Hurt to engulf

Her.

She wasn’t ready

For the gloating.

She wasn’t ready.

She wasn’t sure

She would ever

Be ready.

Poetry

Summer’s here.

And, when he turned

The corner and found

Summer standing

At the bend of the road,

He exhaled slowly and realised

He could get over the disappointing past.

The seasons were changing.

Summer was just around

The corner afterall.🐚

-a-

Poetry

Ready to Live.

She sat down on the window sill

And stared as time passed her by.

Remembering the hurt one last time,

She spread the ashes of her past

On a mild breeze

And watched the days

Poignant with her grief flutter away.

She was finally free.

She was ready to live.

Once again.

-a-