Sunday, September 20, 2015

The Open Door Policy

The forlorn lane,
The drenched alley,
And, the lonesome me.

Unaware of whom I’d stumble into,
I head to my nest
Through the forlorn lane.

Blooms, the butterflies,
The memories, my comrades.
I stroll.

A gentle breeze passes by.

Her scent,
Her  fragrance,
My heart pounds.

The tinkle of the anklet,
The jingle of her bangles,
I wish it was her.

At a distance,
I see a glimpse,
Yes, it is She.

We meet face-to-face,
A decade later,
She, my Ex-Girlfriend.

Our Eyes lock,
Lips exchange smiles,
Yes, it is, indeed her.

She had proposed
not to me,
but to my friend
Shared her Yearning for him, 
and a promise to wait till the doomsday,
with an open heart!
bruising me forever.

My girlfriend, the ex.


© 2015 Ajay Pai (Reserved)   


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