In Haste we Forget
In the banality of busyness, the crisp words melt away without a trace Only some aftertaste of repentance; a morning feels feverish in surrounding cold Willingly becoming an unwilling partner to the race that holds our hands roughly The wrists feel the pain, while the sore feet finds this experience rather tedious Easier leaving compared to the decisions a heart has to make while entering an … Continue reading In Haste we Forget
Amitav Chowdhury 