RedPaper.in – Poetry
By: Deepanshu Chhabda | Guest Writer
Twisting knob, I entered my realm.
Today, I’ll hang a new frame whose nail waits.
Counting breaths alone, soul deafens you.
You stay calm until my frames started screaming.
You might laugh over those big wooden hangings.
A thousand times,I’ve lived each one of them.
Some more thousands, I’ll.
Each one of them became the reason for the next.
I stood in front and they always gave their answers.
People say, live in the present.
But they don’t know the power of past.
You might take it as clumsy.
So I hang a new frame.
And you’ll be the reason for the next.