The lost letter

I am a flower,
not the one on the garland
on the temple idol
but the one which is
used and thrown
for them I am a mere
object of fragrance
they touch me, smell me
use me and throw it away
to be stamped by random strangers
I wanted to live
but they don’t care
I searched for a meaning
I searched for courage
there is only one decision
that I can make.
I Quit.



Writing101 Day V


is it him?
no, its not
but what if its him?
it can’t be
he is careful
very, always
should I see?
probably I shouldn’t
because its not him
ten yards felt like
a million miles
I slowly opened the cloth
to reveal the face.
my heart stopped.