A poem

Photo by Rafael Barros from Pexels

You reply to my smiles with a nod,
To my words with a smile,
To my letters with a pat on the back,

And, I pine for more from you, for more of you,
Thinking that your eyes look through me,
That I don’t exist for you.

I cry myself to sleep,
And then I'm at peace.

What if you start responding to my love,
Start to understand my feelings,
Start warming up to me,

Could I withstand that force,
Could I bear the love,
Could my tiny heart stand this new battle?

Once drowned, could I ever surface?



50-word Microfiction

An image of four children playing with a ball in green fields surrounded by trees in foggy weather.
Photo by Robert Collins on Unsplash

Every day I’d go to the park, sit on the bench, and watch, as little children played with each other, and sang like the world has no worries for them, and I would be transported back to my childhood.

That’s all I had asked for: a time machine that worked.



A few lines on what my love is to me

A b/w image of the faces of a man and a woman deep in thought.
Image by S. Hermann & F. Richter from Pixabay

Are you that unwritten poem that I always procrastinate to write.

Are you that unshed tear I struggle to shed.

Are you that unforgotten memory from childhood that haunts me.

Are you that song in my mind that makes me sad when I’m happy,
And happy when I’m sad.

Are you the wheel of time that reminds me of harsh reality.

I don’t know from where you’ve come;
I don’t know where to will you take me.

All I know is:

I’ve loved you before I knew what love was,
And will do so after I forget what it is.

© Srinath 2021




Tired of a normal life. Afraid of a different one. I’ve taken refuge in Poetry and dreams. Aspiring Aspirer.