Note: I seem to be in a bit of a philosophical mood, and hence all these poems…
Don’t miss the other two posts below…
I see that little burn on my finger.
I was accidental, you know.
My fingers just brushed along,
The handle of that hot-hot vessel,
On the stove……
It has been there, hurting me.
But I don’t make a fuss of it.
I am quite used to it, burns, I mean…
Like when I ironed my clothes,
When I was quite young,
And ended up with burn marks…
I have never done anything about these burns,
They just take care of themselves…
And before I know it, they have all healed.
Leaving a faint mark behind,
In remembrance, may be…..
And sometimes, when I think of it,
I think Life is like that too………….