Call

Dreams carry
Weeping wild flowers
On the broken edge
Of an ancient well..
When the red stains
Of love and hurt
Call from the past
Where will I search
A pink blushing smile?
Where will I search
A glistening tear drop?
Just wrinkles are the
Remnants at the end
And two dried up
Cataractous eyes..

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About Fathima Manal

Dreams,fantasies,words and rhythm-other than skin,bones and muscles I am made up of these.With every drop of blood that my heart pumps,a new dream forms in me.With every breathe,i take the surroundings too inside me.And my poems are just the minute regurgitants of what i accumulate within. I am a doctor from Kerala,India,who should not be supposed to but is in deeply love with words and books more than medical books.Hope you enjoy my poems......

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