My diary’s yellow pages

With colour of past spilled,

So many stories-

So many stages-

Left impressions of cheer

Sobs, flattery and scolds

We enjoyed together.

My first yellow page

Drenched with your kiss

The imprints of your perfect crimson lips

Telling our story of first love

We made beside our placid love lake.

My second yellow page

Lost in the dreams used to be ours

All those clouds, all those snow

And our kiss at the aisle

That made us inseparable.

My third yellow page

Tracing tiny hand-prints and mud

The mud pies and the sand castle

We made with our own tiny Joy

When Joy stood on its tiny feet to run.

My fourth yellow page

Linear streaks of encrypted writings

Lack of time for our meetings

Misunderstanding and more misunderstanding

For I miss understanding between us.

My fifth yellow page

Folded and torn at middle

Rage of shallow betrayals and mistrusts

Seeping into the tiny eyes of Joy

High pitch a regular event all the day.

My sixth yellow page

Translucent with our tears

Some pieces of papery diversion

I thought these tears, a part of our life

What I never thought, these tears apart our life.

My seventh yellow page

Blank and plane yellow

With nothing left to fill the vacant

Dried like my eyes

With invisible bookmarks of all earlier pages.

I always flip them again and again like mad

It feels

Like seven ages

Like seven blinks

Reciting our unwritten poems

You, Me and Joy

Sodden in the colour of past

In

My Seven Yellow Pages.