tiny little droplets on my skin
begin to slip away
usher in another day.
somewhere in between my collar bones
a tune still plays
in its rustic ways.
now that my whole has broken lose
its learnt to breathe
gallops and wreathes.
ever since i heard the news bout the shrinking sun
i've been a lonesome one
just a lonesome one.
begin to slip away
usher in another day.
somewhere in between my collar bones
a tune still plays
in its rustic ways.
now that my whole has broken lose
its learnt to breathe
gallops and wreathes.
ever since i heard the news bout the shrinking sun
i've been a lonesome one
just a lonesome one.
posted by shruti @ 6:28 AM
4 Comments:
At 8:51 AM,
clueless comrades said…
girl...... write something which sounds a bit less depressing!
whats with everybody, why do we need to sound all turbid to be considered deep!?
At 10:00 AM,
shruti said…
i'm sorry if this came across as a desperate attempt to sound deep...
At 6:01 AM,
Anonymous said…
well i disagree that it was depressing if blogs are meant to be ones own though.you have every right to make it depressing or even supressing he he he till the point that people like me are not inspired by your blogs to committ suicide and i dont think this poem is capable of one.Crap apart you know this was the first blog in which i never consulted www.websters.com or www.dictionary.com.he he he hope my reply sounds less depressing to clueless.
At 11:12 PM,
Anonymous said…
This comment has been removed by the author.
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