My once home

 Poems are gloves to fit 

different fingers curled up in pain or

fisted tight in anger or wave like, 

summoning the lost ones in.

Hold my hand and 

walk me through 

the garden leaf stroking the tall ferns 

shy, nodding the cool wind away.

Lead me to the truth, 

to camel skin warmed fields 

folded in blankets of autumn gold 

falling down giddy slopes,

lined with grasses 

and tumbling flowers 

still buzzing with pollen.

Then I will shut the door 

on that old life, the one

lived in damp corners,

pillows tea stained with cold tears, 

rooms of twisted logic

hazed with fumes and pointless hate,

and I will watch the old walls fade,

behind me, 

my once home dissolving into dew.

Written by - Aaryan Gupta