Old relics

Haven’t seen those friends in ages!

Bereaved in the neglected corner of disposition,

Lying sleepless but  calm and still

That made me the person, I stood. 

Never complained for the jagged dent I made. 

Never complained of the silvery fish that gnawed its tale. 

Those yellowing  pages turned tattered

Never will I repay those. 

Never will I find such true friends!! 

2

Forayed and incarcerated by me. 

Festering in the calumnious callosity . 

Festooned by the silhouette of dirt. 

Fagging and waiting to crumble 

Finding again for its vivacious place. 
3.

Nudging that now it belong to someone else. 

To a deprived child that can take care, 

Who can engross its true essence 

This is how I can return 

To its true ineffable place. 

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Aquib.!ns¡ght