Stranger

 

I am a stranger in my own city.

The sea is messy, the malls are pretty.

Things appear plenty but do not reach all.

Many need what few hoard- what a pity!

Something

 

I was something to someone some time back,

and felt the power of her deep love-sighs.

And whenever my words the magic lacked,

I made up with my dreamy soulful eyes.

But I rode the wave of fame for too long.

And the curse of pride silently seeped in.

Her soul ached but I was blind to the wrong-

The prophetic signs were a confused din.

One fine day, that something, she felt no more.

And when I deciphered it was too late.

Our ephemeral bloom quickly turned sore-

All I could do was eternally wait.

I sit back, reflect, on the past I dwell-

What she felt, now I feel, and I would tell.