Here are some more words that I had poured out on a piece of paper recently, thought that maybe I can share this as well.. so here it is.. a small poem. Here is me, explaining, expressing and portraying a simple and very relatable moment of my life in the form of a poem, a non rhyming attempt to share with the world.
At The Gate
So you come home really late
can’t say if it’s a deep night or an early dawn
and you see him strolling at your gate
casually, with a ‘no big deal’ air around.
But he is there, an objection in eyes
at the cab that dropped you off,
Nobody is waiting at your home
why do you come back at all ?
He is there, up n bright, such an odd hour ?
it’s the usual, he’s a regular
but you are not
No you are not.
Been two months of seeing each other
today you touch him and he knows
that you come from an empty space ..
and he’ll be there at the gate .. pariah !
