Shubham Raj Poems

The day we'll meet again it's raining.
The sound's just of forsaken rain
washing our desolation, desecration
demanding no answers
...

Sometimes i used to keep the cup of tea
at the windowsill behind the bedpost
and it would remain there for days
unnoticed till discovered by mother.
...

Again I've fallen out
of all average human comprehension.
Correspondence terminated.
Chalo ek baar fir se ajnabi bn jaay hm dono.
...