I came across a dusty cupboard,
Wiped it clean,
It was a solid teak structure,
With a beautifully carved frame.
The cupboard held many ghosts,
From my recent past,
A tattered book of verses,
A hand note of love, now lost.
A dirty old sweatshirt,
That faintly smelt of him,
An unfinished neck piece,
Strewn with the beads of lust.
A rusted string of his bass guitar,
The reason, I used to dance,
A black and white Polaroid picture,
Stained with the joys of our past.
And as I lower this structure,
Into the deep chambers of my heart,
It creaks a final goodbye,
And fades into the memories from my past.
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Reflective musings about Imagination
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A passionate interior and lifestyle product designer ,nurturing unconventional, ideas and projects, my tryst with writing began as a teenager and with every major chapter in life , my rendezvous with poetry got more profound. Poetry keeps me going , faith being the primary base of most of my poems. A person who strongly believes that every miracle realized and every moment well spent , makes life all the more alive. My poems are for those who want to just sit back and relish on the varied slices of life, one slice at a time... Love Disha
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1 Comment on "Ghosts from the past"
Poignant! it also brings a sense of deja vu in the reader because each one of us have their own little cupboard of memories that we are scared to unlock. Beautifully composed Disha