Thursday, October 20, 2011

Poem 178 - Blood without a murder?


I come out of the washroom, after cleaning my hand's mud and sand
I see the walls red, I get scared - is it blood? For a moment I just stand
I scream out loud, my mom comes in and looks at the red wall
For a moment she stares, and then comes a smile that is small,
I turn back to the wall and see my little sister sitting with a paintbrush in her hand
-Gaurang Rao

4 comments:

  1. Bravo Gaurang you were inspired by the image which took a radiant turn, color splashed on a wall!! WOW!!

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  2. :D Red is the color of the week I guess! Well written Gaurang!

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  3. A wonderful write...a precious ending

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