– Sara Caleeckal

the child who sits beside me

is not mine,

mine I left behind

back home.


this journey is mine,

mine alone,

lonely in a carriage full

of strangers,

away from home.


I sit by the window and watch

the endless tracks

run over by relentless wheels

keeping the beat of my heart,

the heart I left behind,

back home.


Some day I hope to trace my way

back home,

same wheels over same tracks

with some child beside me

but the child of mine

I left behind will be gone,

when I reach

back home.

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This entry was posted on Sunday, June 4th, 2017 at 10:23 am and is filed under Poetry @ Ledhi. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.

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