|| Ruminations ||

At Pen: Siddharth Ganguly

||Ruminations||

There's a bookcase beside my bed,

A long way from the living room,

Would you reach out for them when you go,

It might help to ward that subtle gloom.

There's a window born from raindrops,

Sills with stains of November's nights,

Would you rock a chair and look outside,

Cherish the good'ol summer sights?

There's a couple trees growing old,

Shed their leaves in Winter's cold,

Your kiss tastes of peppermint and Coke,

Just like the first time, up in smoke.

There's me sitting home alone in here,

And can't go to sleep in fear,

Knowing you have someone else

Who holds you close and calls you dear,

There's my mind still holding your hands,

While your fingers feel like Southern sands,

And aren't in my fingers anymore,

No wonder I can't sleep like I used to before.

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