Poetry
What is Left Behind…
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!