:

My Broken Pen...

by WILLIAMSJI MAVELI
(COCHIN, KERALA, INDIA)


At this moment,

And being in this small hut,
I stay alone; holding
a torn-out paper;
an inkless, broken pen,
You alone can figure out,
my outlook; my aspirations;
The truth I hunt for,
you always state
the set of laws that bind on me,
I do bend and kneel down;
My wrecked heart is yours to restore
my tribute, only you to guard.
On you, alone, I can depend;
my sweetheart is not you;
but my colorless paper;
my broken pen.

BY
WILLIAMSJI MAVELI

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