Hardik Vaidya

Rookie - 431 Points (26 Dec 1969, I won't be dead till you know I am alive. / Mahuva, Gujarat, India.)

The Mite. - Poem by Hardik Vaidya

What made you think I forgot the lines on your palm's?
I don't have a photographic memory, and it was always old and worn.
Only once you held them open faced, together, like a lotus in your pond.
You did not notice, I tumbled and fell into those little ravines.
A cutaneous mite, I crawl infinite, line by line,
Trying to find,
Which one leads to your heart.
Now after reading my poem,
Don't go and wash your pretty hands
With Dettol.

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, March 7, 2013

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