Single Cups And Beds

By Bhumika Pandita

The story is an unhappy one,

With dark days of the lost sun;

The girl never fell in love,

And the boy never found the one;

His heart is filled with memories,

Like the walls of a museum;

With stories that no one understood,

With memoirs that never happened;

Her soul is crumpled like paper,

With poems that no one wrote for her;

She smiles at the broken mirrors,

But felt like a broken lover;

They walked the same path,

Their paths never crossed,

They left footprints that each thought were their own;

It ended like it started with single cups and beds,

And the hope that it all ends.

By Bhumika Pandita