<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/platform.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d8734680\x26blogName\x3dsssssshhhhhhh...\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dBLUE\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttps://yetanothermorrison.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://yetanothermorrison.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d-2759290820654989294', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>

About

"Zwicky's Law - "The more irrelevant garbage you put into a sentence, the better it sounds." no more bullshit. read on !!"

untitled

she walked by road, with heart full of fears,
her mind was numb, eyes full of tears.
for all the things to him,she ever said,
in hope, that these memory will never fade.

her lonely shadow on beach, she stare,
was once used to be a dancing pair,
the rocks, they sat, for hours, for days
are now getting tanned, by scarlet sun rays.

the wrinkles on the bedspread of night before,
and the shower, which never stopped to pour,
besides her cot lies, his white shirt,
still reminds her of that innocert flirt.

the half ate sandwich, is still on table,
kept besides, an uncorked black label.
the lilies he brought,in a white china vase,
are pale in memories of he who was.

now he is bound, as photo in her diary,
but a ghost that frequenly haunt her memory.
more she tries to forget the dead,
she knows,its a long and lonely road ahead.

she wish, his presence still lingers there,
a dream against His will, she had dare,
a shot and the floor turned red,
here goes lass, to meet her lad.

Labels: ,

You can leave your response or bookmark this post to del.icio.us by using the links below.
Comment | Bookmark | Go to end