April 1, 2007


The last, I write

I laughed the last time, you made me to
I cry now, why haven’t you come to soothe me yet?

It’s not just the pain
But the loneliness that I have gained.

Didn’t tell me, what I wasn’t
I was dying inside you, was apparent.

Smoldering what we had
You smothered me, you were bad.

I wasn’t asked to look back
Because you had lost your humane face.

It’s not that, only hate I write
But it’s chaste from the now numb heart.

It’s the last, I write for you
The pot is dry of all the tears.

6 comments:

  1. Hey Aseem.. such an emotional outburst!! very truthfully expressed.. :)

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  2. Hey,Hot coffee mein cold,cold ice.....thanks for ur comments...its only because of such comments..tat i continue doing wat i love doing....letting my mind/heart speak.

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  3. Anonymous5:03 PM

    hatred???i wont say that....its love dried up!
    dried up tears will give u a better and clearer perspective now..
    u have a life and better way ahead.
    adore ur writing.

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  4. The best comliment a poet could ever had...wen the readers are able to derive their own meaning out of the piece of work....

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  5. Hey Aseem... visiting your blog after a long time! The poem seems to be coming straight from your heart..
    very well expressed

    Cheers
    Purva

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  6. hey thanks purva...ur comments are also always straigt from the heart!!!

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