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10 August 2014

.Colours.



The striking strokes of
Your paintings
Which you never painted
Keep calling me
To the worlds of
My unwritten poems

Oh my sky…
I could not read
The colours now
I could not paint
The words now
I feel so incomplete
Without your art..

Why are you so numb
Can’t you hear
The chords of my poems
Which are the paintings
Of your heart

---chaitali.

.Her Innocence.



The wonderous generous
Zesty lust of life
Goes crippled with her

Kills her,fills her with
Sheer wisdom and maturity
Which she wears
Like a pardah against
Her childlike face
When she stands tall

But deep in heart
She is afraid that
Where to bury innocence

when
She will be called
The wisest amongst all

---chaitali.