‘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 .