Wednesday, April 27, 2011


My eyes halt
At an alphanumeric piece
Lying on the road
Amidst splintered glass
A disfigured car number plate
Black painted on white
My mind still wondering
About the unlucky travellers
My sneakers then feel a poke
A stained pink hair clip
Mistaking me for the owner
Maybe a beautiful little girl
Wore to match her outfit
Little did she knew
That the day was a mismatch
Few strands caught in the clip
Her curly hairs deserved more
A blur in my eyes
Back of the palm still moist
Another mate in grief stares
A swaying water bottle
The lipstick mark still intact
The lingering kiss leaving
The loved ones in anguish
The cupboard in the room
Waits for the clip
Lifeless legs drag me home
I still have many mornings to walk
But a last journey
For someone unprepared.


  1. this reads rather haunting...the thoughts on the hair clip and the journey of someone unprepared...

  2. Thanks a lot, Brian for visiting my site and for your valuable comments.

  3. Very imaginative piece. I like how you project what could have possible happened given the remnants of the scene. Agree with Brian, rather haunting.

  4. Gosh, this is wonderful! Heartbreaking about all the missing owners.

    Haunting indeed. The lonely cupboard awaiting the clip.

  5. Thanks to each of you for your individual inputs. I had never imagined when I first wrote this poem that it will draw such an interpretation.