Insha Maqbool
All of my dark patches
moments of choas,
sigh’s of sorrows
had ignited in me,
the worlds most
powerful spark,
the spark of patience.
I was 4 only
when i was dispersed down,
when the drops of blood
were dripping down
from my eyes.
Trust me,
I was 5 only
when i was crushed down,like a
little red riding hood.
I was 6 only
when my tender grips
were inked with grey charcoal.
I was seven only,
when my pillow
used to be soaked with
my tears.
And i used to mop
the walls of my heart
with that pillow,
to vanish all the hatred.
