It has been 10 years now,
But i still feel so low.
As if the wounds are still fresh,
and time is so slow.
It just takes me one touch to go to that day.
When everyone was out for picnic and I decided to stay.
I was playing with the toys that I had,
One little pistol and a doll given by dad.
I forgot everything like sand on shore,
And that day I forgot to close the door.
I still remember that white dress of mine,
printed beautifully and cloth so fine.
The door swinged open and light came along,
he had smile on his face and arms so strong.
He was our neighbour, a good friend of Dad.
But that day I realized, that friends are bad.
I was screaming and yelling but he didn't stop,
In a minutes or few, he got on my top.
Closer he came and weaker I got,
Why writing all this is paining a lot?
These memories have stuck inside my head,
Every night i feel tangled on my bed.
I can still feel him, touching me,
This feeling is worst, I want to flee.
The pain I hold is making me frail,
This isn't a story neither a tale.
Not a Story by Kanchan Bhat.
#EXPRESSUNRESTRICTED - 1 year ago