Saju Abraham
Alwaye, Kerala, India
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A Crowded Place

He'd sit on that quiet cold concrete chair
In the playful park,
Would leave when the last child left,
Sipped constantly from the bottle in his pocket,
And watched the children play,
Never spoke a word with them.

When he left it was to warm his lonely bed,
Sleep was hard to come as he felt the emptiness,
Empty house, empty bed, empty life,
But he'd become a part of their games,
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Seema Chowdhury 17 February 2011
A sweet bitter memory poem. its nice and descriptive. i like your pure and honest style of expression in your poems. thanks for sharing.
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Narayanan Ramakrishnan 16 February 2011
a poignant poem with melacholy. weighs the heart.
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