A Corner In Me
Poem About Life
Swirling through the streams of my blood,
there was a deep voice that struck.
Numbered breaths of smoke and lust,
Numbered breaths of fresh, green crust.
Numbered things under money’s possession.
Numbered things under love.
Cross your heart and measure each value
Of all that loss and all that devalued.
Living through time with our decisions made,
Forgotten ways or forgotten place?
Swirling through this ancient rust
Searching for truth or irreversible mistakes?
more by PRANJULAA SINGH
photograph by Azrul Aziz