Dying Art

If you can’t
read it
in my eyes,

even the best poetry
that i borrow
and recite,

will fall flat
and scatter
like a splattered egg,

And i wouldn’t do
such a dishonour
to them,

who without
even knowing
my existence,

said all that
which i
can’t even paraphrase,

For words
were never really
my forte,

and the language
of the eyes
is no longer,

respectfully read
or practiced.

Β© vidursahdev 2019


Author: vidur sahdev

Living life...as it comes!

14 thoughts on “Dying Art”

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