Droplets of fresh morning dew
Trickling down the leaves
And I tried to fill my pot.
Years of wait, my pot filled
And I run to drink it all.
But Alas! This pot now stinks
Stale and rotten, deathbed of insects
All the freshness gone.
And I bewildered, left thirsty for more.
1 comment:
There is thrill only in the chase... :) aint it?
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