10 views
Vo kaagaz ki kashti
The sky seems gloomy,
As his tears flow unhindered.
Tiny rivers wallow and well,
rushing by the roadside
straight into the storm drains,
for they carry no paper boats.
Alas the boat-maker is now a man.
The child that once flirted with the petrichor,
now carries an umbrella.
The sky seems gloomy,
and the river nurtures no paper boats,
the boat-maker set his last boat asail some day,
that entered the abyss of a storm drain,
never to be married to another synonymous petrichor,
and the umbrella makes sure the rain does not
indulge the man
in a child's simple fantasy.
© windrider
As his tears flow unhindered.
Tiny rivers wallow and well,
rushing by the roadside
straight into the storm drains,
for they carry no paper boats.
Alas the boat-maker is now a man.
The child that once flirted with the petrichor,
now carries an umbrella.
The sky seems gloomy,
and the river nurtures no paper boats,
the boat-maker set his last boat asail some day,
that entered the abyss of a storm drain,
never to be married to another synonymous petrichor,
and the umbrella makes sure the rain does not
indulge the man
in a child's simple fantasy.
© windrider
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