The words turn in to black splattered ink
The jar is now full
It overflows
A sound of a famous song
Starts playing in my mind
A popcorn seller
I fiddle my pockets for some money
A five rupee coin
I buy the popcorn
My feet hurt
In the skimpy chappals, I am wearing
The news makes me nauseous
It adds to the misery
It paints the wall black again
Making the room smaller
The jar is now full
It overflows
The contents trickle down
A relief
A momentary relief
The words turn in to black splattered ink
The jar is now full
It overflows again
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Published by rehmanjafar
Hello there,
You've found your way after visiting all sorts of websites on what we call the internet. Congratulations!
While I do not know what brings you here but I hope you find it here or get closer to finding it.
I prefer being called J and I like doing a lot of things which means I am not really great at anything. Trying to work on it but the mind is a funny thing.
Please feel free to tell me what brings you here. Leave me a note.
Also, you will find photographs, stories, and a bit of poetry on this blog.
Have a good time!
- J
https://rehmanjafar.com/
View all posts by rehmanjafar
Thoughts of a Crooked Mind 