The sounds of the past

Here’s today’s entry for Word High July challenge 


I pass by the tiny village

Unable to recognize this image.

I step down reluctantly from my fancy car,

My eyes search for familiar faces from afar.

Stepping into debris and ruins,

My feet are incapable of moving.

I see the old tree, where meetings were held,

My eyes with tears now swelled.

The lake where I played,

I chose to leave, the memories stayed.

My childhood home broken down,

The people I left, to go to town

are now nowhere to be found.

I close my eyes and reminisce

If I am really quiet,

I can still hear the sound

of laughter and bliss.


© Sneha P [Rights Reserved]



7 thoughts on “The sounds of the past

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s