In My Attic Poem by Sumit Ganguly
In My Attic
This is the room to keep my excesses,
also broken items from chair to furnaces.
My once-treasures, though usable
find a place here- they are un-sellable.
Items like sofa and book racks
belong to my ancestors, shoes and rook sacks
of my daughter and son, now living away,
are strings of my heart- help sentiments play.
It is like my album of yellow events
and long forgotten wins and laments.
24.1.17
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/9/2024 8:57:20 AM # 1.0.0.1119
