Wet Patches on grey floor

Uneven edges with lined soakpits

Filament’s hand through wired edges

Light seeping through old carpets

Feet walking ahead of times

Catching hold of what is left behind

Orange-grey brick wall above

Glaring at me with minds shut

I can still see the window in them

Breathing fresh air like olive stem

Feet walking ahead of time

Catching hold of what is left behind

Cold tea, fidgety paper cup

Warming hands but helping not much

Empty packet of snack on the side

Telling story of the passing side

Feet walking ahead of time

Catching hold of what is left behind

Pen in hand, paper on desk

Matching shoes that shows unrest

Bookmark engraved with Shakespeare’s birthplace

Bringing back memories like cards with ace

My feet still walking ahead of time

Catching hold of what is left behind

Noise all around or is it sound?

Encircling my actions like blood hound

I feel so fidgety, all ready to pack

Is it my fight to get back

My feet still working ahead of time

Catching hold of what is left behind

From book to screen here I am

Back to type till my finger numb

All that I write bares each soul

Bit by bit it digs a hole

For my feet still walking ahead of time

Catching hold of what is left behind!