Her memories hit my heart,
Just like the waves hit the shore,
Reviving that poignant love,
The love which she tossed like a dime in the void of ignorance.
She was a flower with thorns,
The more I loved her, the more I bled.
My heart which was once laden with love galore,
Now is wounded, overflowing with grief.
Gulping my past, I sink into the leather,
With the cigarettes in the ash tray mimicking my heart.
Her memories come and go just like the waves do,
Her curse has torned me apart.
~Milind Gautam