August 18, 2012

Wayside Melancholy



A return trip to your home is like
Taking a public transport down the memory lane.

You see everything travels back.

City belles pass you with their frivolous cheers.

In the wet corners of suburbs,
You see the local ruffians fight over nothing.

The green shades of countrysides 
Caress the brainy part of your head 
With their soothing pats.

Through the window, 
You also see the memories travel back 
Flashing a lost agony or pain in the heart.



3 comments:

Felicity Grace Terry said...

Thought I'd visit here for a change and I'm glad I did as you have some great verse posted.

Ghadeer said...

There's always so much emotion going back home.

sm said...

beautiful poem

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