FRIEND's image

I have this friend of mine,

brilliantly skilled in performing

things that can annoy me

to the utmost. I am amazed at

my luck to have this fellow.

One fine day, he visited my place

in evening when I was on terrace

bidding good bye to setting sun.

Hours of dusk pour a calmness weird

into my heart. Only time I feel rest.

His eyes were swinging along with the

clouds stuck in sky to use it as playground.

Nivedita, write me a poem on clouds

their white color, their ice cream shape,

their cold vibrance.

I walked towards my table to get my pen.

As soon as I begun and only a few words

born on paper. Nivedita, this isn't right.

Clouds aren't white. See properly, they are

orange. Without any shape. Floating.

I erased my words, replaced white by orange,

ice cream by nothing. Flic

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