Thursday, 12 January 2012


I told her I was sorry,
And upon her refusal to acknowledge this,
I went to my room,
Silent tears rolled down my cheeks,
Noiselessly and unseeing,
Most were lost on my clothes without
getting their due, while some 
stubborn to get attention stayed where they were,
While a few even wet the  book baring itself in front of me,
As if impudence marked their character,
She came into my room to pick up some clothes,
And sat down on the edge of my bed, and my
did dare to hope, and did
disappoint me, for neither did she turn her back
nor did she see the silent imprudent tears
welling up my eyes again...,
She went and I buried my face in a towel and
gave way to passion; passion for everything and evryone;
passion to be understood; passion to say,
Even though you can't see it;
"How much I love you, Mom!"

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