A FICTITIOUS HOPE.......

a poem by Eisha Gohil, India

Tear me, crumble me or throw me in the dustbin…
I will still be that one single page of your book,
Which desired to communicate with you,
In your joys and sorrows….
There was a time, when you played on me with different colors
You made certain lines,
You drew some circles
And now few dots remain,
Yes, the dots evident of your indifference
Did your thinking stop?
Or the time stopped
Or may be the world ceased to exist…
No, we have stopped somewhere
Somewhere near the horizon
At some place, which is not in sync with the time
Hey….lets start something once again
Something from those numerous dots….
Lets join them once again
On my heart
A heart waiting for a new start in that same glorious book…
And blending your emotions with the colors of nature
Dance on me like waves on ocean……

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