A Paper Ticket


Stationed at the platform
And whistle piercing into the ears
A paper ticket tucked in long
In the micro little jeans pocket
Cried about its nowhere
At once it tossed its head up
Wrinkled and torn
Lent out a voiceless gasp
On identity taken away and smudged
Gave a dozen rolls to the eyes about
They travelled but to nothing
A microphone buzzed in
“Here you belong to;
Come within”.

One Comment Add yours

  1. honeynafs says:

    Feels like m really reading a literature lover. I salute to your height of imagination. Its just amazing.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s