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Rated: · Poetry · Other · #1571908
Anothe poem wrietten by me
Slowly and slowly
A pain revolved in my body,
One day
When, an envelope blew off few words
Painfully.

It traveled a long distance of time
And remained unopened for years
Under the thick bed of the old lady
Called grandmother,
Under the cover which wasn’t since
She occupied the room behind ever rooms
Being affected by a disease
Doctors named as age.
She never went to coma
Nor her aging infections were fatal yet
She was removed the day she
Stopped and could fight with generation.

She was declared old and useless
As her eyes and body could not
jump over the modern household and
pillars of modern syntax.
As her smell dominated the aroma
Of room spray and in- scent -sticks
that let the god take a good smell.

She remained there coughing,
Alarming like a chimed clock,
Least proof of her existence
For some ten months
For sometimes on the lap of her official son
For some times looking at the spider’s web
Which she noticed as a rope form the sky
Until she
Lost her vision,
Lost her organs.
Until she gasped her last sigh
And became motionless,
Until she was carried and buried
Like an old unused chair in the corner of the house,
Until the room was cleaned
And until

I found the envelope stuck in a line gap of her
Reaming reminiscences.
carried her handwriting to her son.

The pain started revolving in me.
*******
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