That would be the colour of my life.
Sepia. The pages I mean.
The pages wrinkled, frayed around the edges.
Much thumbed.
Vulnerable words hedging inwards.
Going back is a given.
Living in what has been
Yearning for what would be.
Passion lurks, unbidden.
Belonging, unwavering.
Inconsolable grief, it form scabs,
Over healing wounds. Slowly.
You hold that book now.
Containing the pages of my life.
Do you see what I mean?
Those words, those lines-
Concealing more than meaning.
I wish I could edit them.
Those words, I mean.
Find grace in simple stories
I once lived.
I cannot touch them now, though.
But of course.
Still, the rainbow that my life is
Can never be muted:
Even if it be Sepia, in yours.
28 September 2012
Online
(Inspired entirely by the topic for Versification given at school, “Pages of my life” :D)
Other personal Sepia favourites:
Sepia Dreams
Beyond Sepia Dreams
September 28, 2012 at 2:25 pm
Love the last lines!!
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September 28, 2012 at 11:19 pm
Thanks, IHM. 🙂
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September 28, 2012 at 6:53 pm
wish I could edit them.
Those words, I mean.
Find grace in simple stories
I once lived.
How thrilling it would be if we could indulge that desire!
Curious to know what the students created. 🙂
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September 28, 2012 at 11:21 pm
Those were way better 🙂 I dont know if I can share them here. Was part of our annual cultural and literary fest. I just read them last night, and found myself inspired. This here is just garbling. Theirs were really consistent and better formatted. Very talented youngsters!
Thank you for the good words for this write. I feel like I’ve been given a star :D!
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September 30, 2012 at 10:51 pm
Beautifully written Usha. Made we want to cry, the pain I saw there.
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October 1, 2012 at 12:38 am
wow.. loved this :). For some odd reason , I never took part in English versification when I was in school. Couldn’t resist trying my hand at this one though.. http://ajournalcalledlife.blogspot.com/2012/09/pages-of-my-life.html
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October 25, 2012 at 10:52 am
How you can weave the most abstract of words into a beautiful piece of poetry still remains a mystery. Take a bow, Usha di. 😀
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