Flashbacks Of The Scene


It was not the midnight drill,

Nor any dream necked in blue.

People may cover their own defense,

When night becomes true.


Not all the vulgar words are obscene,

Nor any love indecent in color.

People may rewrite the history,

When time becomes bipolar.


Words can draw us fool,

Or make us wise, in mind.

But only for the flashbacks

We remain prophets, not blind.


27th April 2014






  • Author: NilavroNill (Offline Offline)
  • Published: January 31st, 2023 13:28
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 5
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors

To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.