A book on the shelf

by Varun Hegde
(Mumbai Maharashtra India)

A book on the shelf that I never noticed,
The withering pages that I never turned,
The dust conveys more than a cry,
The fading colours have told the whole story,
The silent noise suffocates inside.

Time has matured,
The hair has gone grey,
But the loss that I incurred
Has put me at bay.

The friends that I lost,
The time that I missed,
The book was open and always lying on the shelf;
Waiting for the pages to be turned and read.

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