Colours Dry

Colours Dry

-Ishana Ghosh

taken from mymainephotography.com

I had pictured 

my last day there,

to have been something like this...

There would be moments spent 

With that someone 'special'

And we would be smiling in the bliss.

There would be goodbyes said

and prayers prayed,

With good wishes for everyone.

We would be savouring each moment

in the place we loved,

And we all would be together as 'ONE'.

On that last day,

the field would be ours

for all the school hours.

On that last day,

in each corner of the building

would be blossoming the memory- flowers.

Yes. I had pictured in my mind

That we would be laughing our hearts out,

With our fingers intertwined.

The day would be special,

The teachers would laugh with us...

But all of this was only in my mind.

'Cause in reality what happened

shocked us hard

and made us cry.

Our last day there was such,

that we didn't even know

it was time to say 'Goodbye'.

The last day, we were told

For the conduct of some,

We all had become a burden.

We had a fight and I was rebuked

for the words of another,

And that very day, I chose to weaken.

In my memories,

That last day which was meant to be the best

Is registered as the worst.

What I had pictured in my mind

turned out to be just a sweet dream

That was meant to rust.

Flowers wither,

Leaves fall down,

And trees die.

That is why,

Even if you colour pictures in the mind,

Slowly they all will dry.

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