Tuesday, March 29, 2011

bench ..

comes a story , old and cold
rain pours on this same road
flashback turned her old and grey
years did love her all the way

when young she came like a rush of wind
touched by her soul , people smiled 
she tucked on the bench close to me
till the sun dawned inside

after all these years I visited the street
the rain like always poured 
the rain of endless dreams
she tucked on the bench , now all grey
still I fell for her rosy smile

here when the sun stood all high
tricked sunshine on her wrinkled face
of a story cold and diverted ways
of a familiar zone taken unknown name

and now when she sits close on the bench
I'm happy to know , she remembers it all
the road , rain , love
the sun and its silent dawn
the cold story and the warm end 

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