A Thing of the Past.

The moon is at my window again,
Silvery mist knocking at my panes,
Wondering where I’ve been all this while,
Asking if I’d disappear once more;
If I said I had other things on my mind,
Would it really be such a lie?
After all, it feels as if we’re strangers now,
We’ve left it all far behind.
And the ghosts of your promises,
So empty and haunting,
They’ve been mourning you all along,
Like they knew you were forever gone;
Somewhere so far away,
My letters cannot reach,
No trace of you was ever to be found,
I guess I knew you’d never stick around.
All the songs we promised to write
Remain unwritten and unsung,
All the places we dreamed of going
Now wait for us to come home,
And the house that we once built with love
Is now boarded up, collecting dust,
While the creepers climb them up,
Like the walls we built all around us.
And all we have now is broken hearts,
Our story is done, is a thing of the past,
We should’ve known right from the very start
That we weren’t ever built to last;
Every storm we ever braved
Seems like a gentle breeze,
I wonder how things would’ve turned out,
If only we were meant to be.

~© Shubhangi Srinivasan.

We often find ourselves thinking about how differently our lives could have turned out, if only things had played out a little differently. I caught myself in one such moment today and I came up with this. It took me surprisingly little time to come up with this. I wanted to give this poem a happy ending, but I left it on this more angsty note instead because I think it goes very well with what I’m trying to get across here. I hope you like reading this!
Yours truly,
The Shubhster.

Featured Image by Jing Xi Lau on Unsplash

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