A little piece for the kindest of hearts and strongest of souls who have strength enough to move mountains.

I hope this reaches hearts that haven’t been touched before and

people like me, who have easily gone unnoticed at some or the other stage of life. You should know how important you are.

I am just one of those untidy

creases that carelessly shape

on my bed sheet, almost forgotten,
tired and fragile, the one that
would not respond to knocks
on a yellow day or stretch and
crackle its loose muscles and
trembling bones and ease them
of the pain;

I am just another unattended
drop of sweet subtle rain,
that has forgotten the touch,
taste, tenderness and warmth of a
human face, drop that holds dry
metaphors and way too many
broken edges, a drop dreadfully
tired of crawling its way back up,
detaching, yet again, ragged,
impatient to dissolve;

I’m hands, not too pretty,
withered, ashen and wrinkled,
as if incomplete fairy tales is all
they have ever known, drenched
in shades of a dull lonely desert
that awaits a long lost vegetation,
ungraceful words uttered out
of absence, out of agitation
and something not worthy
of a poetry;

I’m nothing that sounds
like a muse but I’m
everything that could initiate
one.

By Sejal Jain