The Poet

I just came across a poem written by me a few years back. There’s something very special about old writings, they immediately take you to those beautiful-bright-restless days you want to go back but never can, only thing you can do is cling on to the memories and cherish them 🙂
This is how it goes:
When a thin smell of some unknown flower
covers this cruel world,

when a tiny blue bird welcomes the dawn of a new day,

that awaits bloodshed and more bloodshed-

When the children on the streets 
covers them

with the blanket of enchanting silvery moonlight,

when romanticism is merely just a word;

I,like a lousy poet hide behind my poems.

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