The Story Street Poem by abhro bhattacharjee

of slurry speeches, of the innocent days
to twisted minds, to the present day
a million steps, those shuffling feet
then i lost my mind in the story street.

the street though had a story of its own
the boulevard was cobbled
its abundance grown
maybe the swallows, the adolescent two
or was it the lavender, celestial and few
or maybe the grass lonely and lush
maybe the voices, their decibels hush

the buzz had the air,
so dizzy went i
of ten and three was all i was
with a pep in my gait,
and a teenage pause.
the good and the bad ran so deep,
then i met the ugly in that crazy street.
the good within me i saw all around, ,
the bad was beaten somewhere broken down

the day was dusk, , the sky green
the lights were out and the eyes mean
the eyes were beady, the eyes were dark
those eyes were painted and those eyes were stark
those eyes were stories if only they could speak
those eyes had voices, if only i could listen
a few flickered whike the others just glistened

out of those i guess, , ,
there was a serene blue
many a deathly whites, neon sparks a few

but away from these stood a pair of ruby reds
that red was painful, yet smiling was that red
the red of roses, the red in a dying flame,
the red had passion, the red did have shame

the heavens lit up or did the moon just shine
the girl back then
i always wanted to make her mine

yet those eyes were strange, their story was different
that red was deep, me unable to comprehend ,
she looked away so i looked down at my feet
lil i knew
my love was long lost in story street