The poignant memories.

The poignant memories.

Once i visited the house
where I was born.
I was shocked to see
the dilapidated house
and those wobbly windows
where we stood every morn.

The colours of the house
the doors and windows were faded.
The tree was cut
which cast shadows
spreading its branches.

I peeped through one window
and visualised my golden past.
My mother was cooking dilicious on Sunday.
My brother and I was standing in front of widows,
as if two birds were captivated in a caged nest.

As soon as we heard
the irresistable call of our friends.
We flung out from our rooms
and joined with them to play
with earth and clay.

Suddenly my riverie broke
with the flapping of wings.
I found one' Dove flew out
from the room of my father
and went away far very far.

I returned with poignant memories
Which overshadowed the memories of golden days
and my eyes responded with few tear drops.