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What if….

November 17, 2010

There once was a boy who strummed
he played to please the crowd
– in his heart he held one riff
that he never did sing aloud.

The corners of his red glass frames
gleamed in the blinking lights
– in his heart a soft ‘what if’
he breathed into the nights.

“What if –
the red were blue
the false was true
you were here
and I was… you.
What if?”

A girl she sat, chin in her palm
with a never-wavering gaze
– in her eyes the earth’s own calm,
a stillness that was ablaze.

He said,
She gives him roots, she gives him wings
she holds together the seams
– and every note that he now sings
are scented with her dreams.

But,
“What if –
the red were blue
the false was true
you were here
and I was… you.
What if?”

And so he
Returned to where it all had begun
deep in the lonely hills
and that one riff he then sung,
played till his fingers stilled.

That one riff he strummed alone
where the rhododendrons grow
that melody would soon be gone
fading with the melting snow.

The hills echoed,
he hummed no more…
“What if –
the red were blue
the false was true
you were here
and I was… you.
What if?”

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5 comments

  1. Well written miss


    • Thanks Malhar !


  2. nice one Abhilasha!


  3. Really liked it Lasha..keep writing..


  4. @ Madan, Bharat: Thanks guys !!



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