Some Days
Some days
Are like that
Fever stricken eyes
A gloomy, gray world
An urge comes into the mind;
A tremendous longing of reaching
Somewhere. With stories of a long aspiring journey.
Some days
Are like that
Notebook of poems lie on
The table, unattended, reluctant
The golden hue of Sunlight touches the window,
The golden hue of Sunlight touches the fingers gently
And those fingers linger to reach another hand, in love and compassion.
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