Suman_Bhattacharya

Fakes

words once thrown rippled back as memories

in form of echoing smiles with reverence

dancing in solitude

assuring of a sunrise

my loneliness takes a break

with time the music fades

struggling mind feeble legs

carrying wearying loads of

smiles and betrayal hand in hand

a soul longing to rest

no calls from the birds

no touch of assurances

not even the beloved old coin in the pocket

remains a light of decaying confidence

to live a life with a pocketful of fakes