I don't have a thing
To say of things
Gone by which are
As they passed
With a memory
Of never lasting
Since memory is left of things
Sweet which are to be
Instead received I did is the pain
Which is to be forgotten
With memories saddening which are
And painful to be
Which cause hurt
Only hurt
Forgotten which is to be
By me
For the life
Which is to come
Since you are gone
And remember you
I won't
As forgotten you are
To be
Since you saddened me
With nothing but hurt
And pain.
By ROHIT SAPRA
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