Saturday, October 24, 2009

52. The floods

I saw the waters rushing in
Taking away all I had –
The wooden stool on which I sat
The board game that I played
The mattress on which I slept
The picture books I read
The slate on which I wrote
The chalk-box on the window
The pencil I enjoyed sharpening
The sharpener itself and much more…

They have returned everything to me
Sparkling new and well-packaged
But when are they going to return
My chirpy little brother
Whom the waters have taken away?


Indrani said...

Oh! Very sad.
So well written.

Anonymous said...

excellent :)

Aparna said...

Visiting after a long time as I was away.
This poem really touched my heart.