Wrote a poem after years
Pata Hai Aaj Kya Hua, I wrote a poem after 3 4 years becuase I was very overwhelmed with life and situations. I don't even care to be honest if its not good, I'm glad I finally wrote something and here I am sharing it away. This Unhappy situation had a silver lining after all :). Its too long mann kare to padh lena
I was your favourite poem once
The one you wrote with so much love
On the paper you liked the most
The one you had been saving for something special.
You cared for those words like your best work
Until you started adding a little more,
And suddenly it didn't make sense
The rhyming wasn't good
The words weren't right
It was all a mess , in your head
And on the paper
So many cuts, blotches and additions
And the love you once had was gone
Because now the paper wasn't perfect
Neither was the poem, nor was your mind.
You threw it in a corner of your room
Writing other things , and
Eventually the poem you loved was just collecting dust.
On occasion, you took a glance at it
Lying there like it's nothing
And it ate you alive that it was once your best work
So you hated yourself for giving up
And you hated it more because it existed
You crumpled it up in a fit of rage
And threw it across the room
Then you cried a little and couldn't give up
So you picked it again, tried to uncrumple the page
And wrote on it, convincing yourself that you loved this piece
But then you lost it again and threw it away
And everytime your life was a mess you went back to that paper
Only to hate it each time.
Your best piece had given up too
The ink was blurred by your tears
Full of wrinkles from the times you discarded it
And to be fair, you were right
You hated it because the poem you loved wasn't there anymore
The only thing left were the traces of the love you had and lost,
And an attachment to what could have been
You decided to give it last shot
On the same page
With the same love
But you were so agitated that you ended up tearing the paper in pieces
It was gone, finally.
You bawled like someone died
But all that died was your love
And that love was long gone, you knew
So you sat there alone
And mourned the potential of your "best piece"
Tell me
Did it feel lighter when you let go finally?
And did you write your next best piece with the same love you had for me?
Or maybe don't answer the last question
It might erase my final memory of myself.
But let me tell you one last thing
I wasn't your best piece
You weren't my perfect writer
But you were right, in the moment
And I'll never forget that.