Last Visitor / Poem

She left a note , a brief one,

Few words hidden in dust and dirt

It must have been in her handbag for years now

Like a souvenir

He knew the lines, once.

He had scribbled them on a birthday

The only day she visits him..

Like an awful ritual

Today she looked different

Her hair unkempt, skin more wrinkled

But, those eyes were not meeting his,

Exactly like a decade ago

“Mother, Forgive me if possible,

Not for the crime I committed

But for the days you visit me”

She walked away slower than ever

And he, now, locked in a piece of paper

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