April - Poem 5

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Promise wandered all around
Like a wastrel in a foreign land
Homeless, cold and oh-so-hungry,
She went plodding across white, hot sand.

People looked at her with awe and envy
She was a vision, sure, with eyes dark and deep
And although it was tempting to take her,
They knew Promise to be hard to keep.

In her final days, Promise lay clouded
With peace and wisdom, hard-earned and unspoken
They were better - those who'd abandoned her
Than the ones who'd taken her in and left her broken.

Comments

Serendipity said…
Mukta , wasnt it your birthday on the 4th?Happy Birthday!Hope you had a nice one :)
8:24 PM
Mukta Raut said…
hi serenditpity, it was on the 3rd. thanks so mich! really sweet of you to remember. yeah...it was nice!
3:58 PM
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