‘A Knock on the door

She got up wiping her tears

Her face wet by the warm woeful water.

She is a perfect eccendentesiast, hiding her pain in a smile….

She kept her grief under the rug

And dusted herself with a brush of happiness

Disguising herself with a mask of sunshine.

She unlocked the door…..

But it was the same grief hidden beneath the rug as a guest!!

She greeted the grief on the drop of a hat!!

As she knew that it was the same old visitor she had every month….

But her treasure was hope! She knew that the next visitor was joy

In the backdrop of fall , she waited for the autumn to fade a grey

And spring for the next visitor!

She turned another page of her life

But soon she realised that the visitor was , but only in fantasy .


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