y o y o s

those
random
moments
when
eyes
stare
at a
blank
space,
and
conscious
thoughts
stop
their
incessant
parade,

as
memories
like
water
balloons
splatter
on
empty
walls,
and
vivid
colours
flash
giving
glimpses
of a time
gone by,

till
the last
drop
is soaked ain
like a
watercolor
on paper
art,
and
a blink
is all that
it takes
for
the sheet
to regain
its
white,

as
the stains
of pain
once
again
retire
into
the
depths
that
hold
them
captive
inside.

———-

Vidur
25Apr17