Comments about shreya chatterjee
In the dark alleys of my mind
They run about.
Sometimes lost, sometimes found.
Sometimes emerging faintly through the dark
Sometimes vanishing in thin air.
They emerge, only to half-disappear.
Only the sounds of laughter left behind,
Perhaps tiny footprints here and there.
As I sit to recreate these
In dark silent dead nights
On blank non-reflective sheets
Less than half-the-words stare up-
Rest are lost beyond recovery
In the dark alleys of my mind.