Sunday, April 8, 2012

That Girl


That Girl with the pale dead lips,
With scars on her body,
had black bordered blue eyes.
She reeked of Jasmine.

She somehow polluted everything,
The people, the dead, the unborns,
And she gave life,
To the life-less, the hope-less.
She radiated Light and hope,
Maybe be she was an angel.

Swinging on my chair,
In the porch, I think,
These memories of her
Have been always with me.
The door at my back opens,
I smell Jasmine,
My mother walks in.

No comments: