by Vanshita Singh (15)
St Mary’s Convent, Allahabad
I lie here inebriated.
My bed like a grave, it seems;
Except when I sleep,
Because you lie there in my dreams.
Behold! Nostalgia may come and play,
The games that ruin you slowly day-by-day.
I say not, do not let their memories sneak in;
Grip your heart firmly, do not let it give in.
Don’t, my dear, never forget,
The cruel games for you, that destiny has set.
When the moon shines, you see their face,
Watching such a beautiful sight,
How can you not remember those beautiful days?
Alas! It strikes you again,
That beautiful things always bring pain!
That smile, how you used to watch it every day,
And how now you beg to
Just have a glimpse of it in any way.
Those eyes, I remember listening to stories of passion through them,
And now, I light their prints with flames inside my heart,
‘Cause I’ve been yearning to listen to them again since the day you fell apart.
Chaotic, I try to pull through each day,
Awaiting the cruel games destiny has to play.
Despite the miseries and the tears,
At the very sight of you, I glow.
Only if you could tell me,
Why is it so hard to let you go?
This poem has been published in the May 2016 issue of The Teenager Today.