I am tired of this place
-same old plastic streets with grey miseries
goodbyes resting in corners waving a moment of numbness – memories lingering around tress, scribbling scratches on barks of cinnamon memories – fragrances hovering in dissolutions of mystic air, flowing through platonic vibes- sand clock rests still in between crowd of piquant lives, blabbering, breathing, – bestowing shreds of broken dreams, echoing with vibrations of discriminated screams- dust and mist in brumous sky- vapours of smoky desires rise high – condense in those green eyes, soft and silky- wroth fire enrage- burns this same old place, perchance I am tired of my own state rather than this place.
©Sameera Mansuri 2018.
Image source : Pinterest
Poetry form inspired by Rishu😀