Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Acid

Thought of a fireplace made you walk
Draught and rain didn’t make you stop
The dream of fire was wild and red
All that welcomed was blue and dead

“Raining it is” was said when there is draught
Broken hand pumps, cracks in the soil
Scorching sun burned your cracked lips
Die if you must said she, it’s a choice if you wish

Dry wind rocked the swings by and by
A loner walked with a stranger beside
Encouraging smile while walking she gave him
It was acid not any gin

Agitated bottle of some drink
You waited for the fizz to die in
Tightened the lid, and watched around
The fizz never seemed to die down

A word of caution given, paid no heed
Tried to be a friend when in need
Befriending you when you come to me
But I’m acidic; don’t dream of creed
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