"rahman" poems
I think of all my problems.
I think of all my pain.
I think of all my sorrows,
Until I go insane.
I think of all the smiles I've worn,
Which hide sorrows underneath.
No one seems to notice,
That I go through so much grief.
My tears seem to keep flowing,
Inside my tired eyes.
Each time i want to tell you,
The words come out as lies.
These days I'm feeling distant,
Far away and weak.
My sadness pulls me farther,
From the happiness i seek.
I've just begun to realize,
That my hopes and dreams are gone,
I'm walking down a dead-end road,
Humming a tuneless song.
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 11:57 PM UTC
And I found peace
in your prayers
And I find solace
when bowing and crying in front of you,
Every tear that I shed
all my regrets
all my sorrows
they all decayed the moment I called on to you,
The poignancy in my heart
the impossibilities
and the hurdles I faced
all I ever did was cry in front of you,
I felt like I sinned a lot
I was grieving
the pain I carried was so immense
And all I said was 'Ya Rahman, Ya Raheem' all that I had on my mind was no more.
Jun 2, 2017
Jun 2, 2017 at 8:42 PM UTC
Beneath the metro’s twilight hum,
I stood where all the strangers come.
My voice was low, my fingers tight
Around a phone that lit the night.
She spoke — the girl I’d never met,
Whose voice had warmed each day we’d yet
To bridge the miles from screen to skin,
A year apart, but close within.
A village boy from Bengal's rain,
I came by train, through fear and strain.
She hailed from cities far and wide,
A nurse, on duty, time denied.
But just today, for half an hour,
She’d slip from work’s unyielding tower,
And meet me by this concrete gate,
Where pulse and platform danced with fate.
“Gate Four,” I said. “I’m here. Waiting.”
She whispered back, “I see you. Wait.”
My eyes spun fast through faces blurred,
My chest beat loud with love unheard.
Then there she stood — not far, but near,
In steps that wiped away the year.
I thought, “She’s tall.” My throat went dry.
But closer now — we matched in eye.
She didn’t speak — just took my hand,
And led me through this foreign land.
Across the road, beneath the sky,
Our silence hummed a soft reply.
She bought me food — a chicken thigh.
(Though she eats none. I wondered why.)
We sat, she watched, I tried to speak —
But time was short and words were weak.
“I have to go,” she said at last.
And just like that, the moment passed.
No kiss, no vow, no sweeping song —
Just fingers held a moment long.
She turned and walked back to the light,
A nurse again in white and night.
And I — I rode the metro home,
Still feeling less alone, alone.
That evening, after duties done,
We typed the things we’d left unsung.
And somewhere in that crowded thread,
She softly said, “You held my hand.”
The clock moved on. The dreams, they stayed.
A new day dawned, but I replayed
That half an hour — a fleeting grace
When time stood still, and I saw her face.
- THE END -
© 2025 June, Hasanur Rahman Shaikh.
All rights reserved.
Jun 5, 2025
Jun 5, 2025 at 5:38 AM UTC
Hello Angel
Let me tell you somethin'
You're my love
You're my life
You're my everything!
Can I express my love
with a kiss like Robert Pattinson
Goin' wild and get into
your attention
Can I propose you
with a drink like DiCaprio
Runnin' fast after you
like a Romio
Can I show it in a romantic
way like Rahman
Singin' out loud sayin'
Im gone
Can I express it in song
like Chris Brown
Searchin' for you in this
Hyderabad town
Girl, you're my choco bar
be with me;
I love you like justin bieber!
----de3pak
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 10:16 PM UTC
There are times
When I wish I could be a child again
Because, as far as adulthood is concerned
There is a lot of pressure and expectations
And many complications as well
Work, relationships, time, money, health
The list is endless
Also, let us not forget
That I am a divorcee
And yearning for a second marriage
Or at least, some kind of romantic relationship
And at the same time
I have to deal with work as well
Anyway, I wish I could be a child again
Because my childhood was awesome
Lots of love
From my family, cousins and relatives
Playing cricket with one of my close cousins
Going on train trips with family
Having fun with schoolmates
Including enacting the part of a Japanese anime princess!!
Playing chess with my maternal grandfather
Watching the golden era of Sachin Tendulkar
Listening to AR Rahman classics
Watching the best movies of Superstar Rajinikanth
Playing tennis with my father
During my second visit to Mumbai
And best of all
Having a life free of tension and worries
Except of course, as far as studies were concerned!!
Well, there were bad times too
For instance, the bullying I faced
Which forced me to leave a renown school
In the span of just one week!!
Nevertheless, on the whole
My childhood is something to be cherished forever
And reflecting back on it as an adult
I am filled with a sense of nostalgia
Being a Potterhead, I wish I could use a Time Turner
And go back in time
In order to revisit all those fond memories in person
Yes, I am not ashamed to say
That I wish I could be a child again
Jul 8, 2023
Jul 8, 2023 at 12:09 AM UTC
Rubaiyat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust) – 7
BismillahIr Rahman Raheem
Oh E’ilahi’ (Creator most loved one) (Mehboob E ilahi)
You are the creator most loved one (Mehboob E ilahi)
There is a veil in between you and me,
You are the order, and you are the noble saint,
I am not worthy, to see you through the veil,
Maybe little glimpse You and me, from behind the veil,
let me learn the order from you Oh E’ilahi’
The Order about Our Beloved, and His love,
May I am not worthy, for any of these,
But From You, Oh E’ilahi there is an enlightened lamp (Chirag Dehlavi) and Altruistic (Bande Nawaz)
So I came, in your presence with the utmost respect, beneath your feet as your dust, Allow me to learn,
Tonight, is the gathering of loved ones, let me sit beside the veil,
Let me fade in silence, and watch the gathering,
I Ummah Thurab, not worthy for this knowledge, except remain as dust’ beneath the sky and your feet!
Allah Khair….. Khairul Rabul Alameen Yah Arrahmanur Yah Raheem
Ummah Thurab – Badshah Khan.
Feb 4, 2019
Feb 4, 2019 at 4:45 AM UTC
I love you, dear brother
And for you, will I always be there
Always, have we been close
Right from our school days
Playing a lot of street cricket
Having loads of entertainment
In the form of masala movies
Listening to AR Rahman classics
Debating on Harry Potter-related topics
Playing carrom and chess
The list used to be endless!
I love you, dear brother
So much fun, have we had together
As children, teenagers, adults
Indeed, have we had many a memorable moment
Playing cricket inside the house
And creating a fair amount of chaos
Racking up highly unrealistic totals in book cricket
Going up to the terrace in the evening
And in the process, watching bats
A fair amount of travelling
Especially when it came to trains
Playing the game "20 Questions"
In regards to both cricket and Harry Potter
Going on talking and talking till the wee hours
On a variety of topics
Seriously, were those days epic!!
I love you, dear brother
For me, have you always been there
Advising me from time to time
Always managing to stay calm
Whenever have I gone on ranting and ranting
Taking time out for me while working
Being a shoulder to cry on
Checking on me often
Bringing out the best in me
Not to mention, I'm sure you will agree
It was thanks to you
That I became such an ardent fan of Harris Jayaraj!!
I love you, dear brother
You are going to have an exciting future
So happy am I, for you
Now, is a treat due
Soon, will we meet
Wish you all the very best
And may God bless you
With a truckload of love, happiness, peace and prosperity!!
May 29, 2024
May 29, 2024 at 8:17 AM UTC
Ever since the movies "Ghajini" and "Anniyan" were released
About eighteen years ago
I was transformed
From an AR Rahman enthusiast
To a Harris Jayaraj fanatic
He is not only a music director
But also an artist par excellence
When you listen to some of his songs
Your feet begin tapping
Right from the word go
Some songs evoke a plethora of conflicting emotions
Happiness, sorrow, amazement, shock
Love, hatred, excitement, a sense of calm
And the list goes on and on
However, the best among the lot
Are undoubtedly the lilting melodies
Particularly the ones sung by Bombay Jayashri
Even the most bitter cynic
Can transform into a hopeless romantic
After listening to such gems
Then there are the "soup songs"
Every man or woman
Who has gone through a heartbreak
Or for that matter, a divorce
Derives a lot of solace from such beauties
Which have the capacity
To tug at your heartstrings
And finally
There are the "kuthu songs"
These will make you dance all night
As if there were no tomorrow
However, more than the songs
It is Harris' background music
Which transports you into a different planet altogether
Many movies which might have flopped otherwise
Have become hits
Thanks to the BGMs
Composed by this incredible gentleman
If movies can be compared with cricket
The actors are the eleven players
With the 12th man being the music composer
And when that composer is Harris
The team's victory is almost guaranteed
Dear Harris Sir, we have listened to your music
For more than two decades
It is our sincere wish and prayer
That you make a strong comeback
Like Australia did against South Africa a few days ago
After being seemingly down and out at one stage
And amaze us all once more
With the kind of magic you used to produce
During your heydays
Something that cannot be replicated
Even by Professor Dumbledore or Lord Voldemort
Sep 11, 2023
Sep 11, 2023 at 1:17 AM UTC
I have never met you
And you don't even know I exist
But you have cast a spell on me
From which it would be very difficult to recover
Your eyes blaze with an intensity
That can even melt steel
Your smile is so beautiful
That it cannot be surpassed
Even by that of Mona Lisa
Your laugh is so musical
That even the songs of AR Rahman
Would pale in comparison
Your hairstyle is an art in itself
Your dress sense is so impeccable
That it would put even the finest Italian designers to shame
And last but not the least
We come to your acting
A Sri Lankan Tamil dancer *** revolutionary
In the movie "Jagame Thanthiram"
A humble and yet powerful boatwoman
In "PS1" and "PS2"
A fierce wrestler with short hair
Forced to become a submissive housewife with long hair
In "Gatta Kusthi"
And finally
A teacher dealing with troublesome students
As well as impending layoffs and rejected marriage proposals
In "Archana 31 Not Out"
Given any kind of role, you play it to perfection
Born with oodles of natural talent
You nevertheless refuse to rest on your laurels
And put your heart and soul
Into the profession which you hold so dear
You are an inspiration to one and all
Forced to do an MBBS
By your extremely conservative parents
You have nevertheless the courage
To break free of the shackles placed on you
And pursue your own dreams
What's more, the risks you have taken off
Have ultimately paid off
You are the numero uno of present day Mollywood
And flying high in Kollywood as well
Yes, you have cast a spell on me
But it was a spell, that I refused to resist
And rightly so
Jun 4, 2023
Jun 4, 2023 at 5:48 PM UTC
Passing the ‘Anwara Noor’
I promised to forget
What I have kept with thee
Or what madness obsessed you
Loving, in dream even, me.
Protima, believe me, my dear
No stone I unturned from then
To struggle to erase
Memories sweet or panic
From my oblivion I possess.
But standing before the mirror,
To have a copy of my own brand
Or some broken images of me,
Nothing I get visible
Except its betrayal I do see.
In a flash, then, my dearest known
And very dearly own,
Ninety thousand faces of
Thy lovely chicks appear before me.
Now, tell me, dear, how do I forget thee!
© Rahman Mostafiz
Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 8:10 PM UTC
She entered
like dusk slips through curtains—
slow, deliberate,
never asking
to be noticed.
The lamp flickered.
He watched
as her earrings swung
like pendulums
measuring silence.
She undressed
without touching a seam.
The room tilted
as if memory
had gravity.
His fingers hovered
over the curve of her hip
like a prayer
he no longer believed in.
They moved
like fire learning
its shape
in a spoon of oil—
quiet first,
then chaos.
Somewhere,
a rain began
they could not hear
but tasted
in the salt between breaths.
Then—
stillness.
Not peace,
but aftermath.
She lay back,
a wound wrapped in moonlight.
He stared
at the crack
in the ceiling—
noticing it
for the first time.
The room smelled of iron
and orange peel,
as if something holy
had burned
and vanished.
She left
before the hour turned.
Her body stayed
for days
in the folds of the sheet—
a crease,
a heat,
a warning.
- THE END -
© 2025 June, Hasanur Rahman Shaikh.
All rights reserved.
Jun 4, 2025
Jun 4, 2025 at 7:34 PM UTC
We share many beautiful memories
Because, are we beautiful brothers
From childhood to adolescence to adulthood
Our relationship has never been less than very very good!
We share many beautiful memories
Playing cricket on the streets
And of course inside the house
Making a mockery of cricket rules in the process
For example, a one-handed one-pitch catch
Could win you the match
Or even better, getting beaten would be considered out
However, best of all was book cricket
Where India would score a thousand runs
And the opposing team would be shot out for less than fifty runs!!
We share many beautiful memories
Playing many Cric07 matches
You teaching me the "D-shot"
Myself as Steve Harmison playing 400 ***** without a single attacking shot
Pitching the ball on the wicketkeeper's legs
For sure, would we have outraged many cricket lovers!!
We share many beautiful memories
My unnaturally high-pitched laugh during the beginning of my teens
You having to explain cricket rules to me all over again
Though I had not REALLY forgotten
The hilarious Yelagiri boat incident
For hysterics, did I have some kind of talent!!
We share many beautiful memories
Listening to AR Rahman songs of the glorious late nineties
Before you converted me to a Harris Jayaraj fan
And more than a decade later, a Santhosh Narayanan fan!!
We share many beautiful memories
You and Shreeja teasing me multiple times
About the "Gulmohar Malare" song
Thanks to this, YouTube did I start watching!!
We share many beautiful memories
Playing the game "20 Questions"
Involving cricket as well as Harry Potter
Having multiple debates on Harry Potter
Comparing the movies with the books
This would go on for hours!!
We share many beautiful memories
Having multiple get-togethers with our relatives
Watching cricket matches at Ranga Periappa's house
Getting treated to Sizzling Brownies at Opal Inn
And can I go on and on
However, as per my idol Dr. Meena Kandasamy's advice sage
A poem has to stop at some stage
So, Dear Bro, hope you enjoyed reading
As much as I enjoyed writing!!
Feb 25, 2025
Feb 25, 2025 at 3:28 AM UTC
It's not your fault
That you are born as a daughter.
Whether the whole world shouts
that being a daughter is curse.
Don't mind them.
They restrain conservative thoughts.
It's not their piece of cake
to understand what a blessing it is,
to hold a little fairy in their arms.
Don't worry that their is no one
to whom you should narrate your story.
Remember little fairy,
You have ALLAH
who belongs to you.
Tell your stories; he will listen.
Have faith in him,
he will make your life easier.
If it's not getting easy but difficult
then remember
he is the one who created you.
He knows best than anyone.
Who are you to question
that it's your fault,
that you are born as a daughter?.
He is the one who has written your fate,
whose known as Al-Rahman and Al-Rahim.
He is the sculpture of word " Justice ",
So how he can do injustice with you?
as giving you a body of women?..
Being born as a daughter is not your fault,
but considering yourself weak
in a feminine body
is your fault, little fairy.
Don't you remember;
when ALLAH is happy
he bestowed the couple
a token of strength
in the form of you; a little fairy.
You belong to that linkage
who was born strong,
who live strong.
So, how can be your birth
as a daughter can be fault?.
Don't suppress your strength
under the conservative talks of other.
Dogs just bark, that's their duty.
So, let them bark.
Release your soul from the chains of society.
Ask guidance from your Lord,
as he is waiting to answer your call.
A feminine body is the strength
that your body holds.
So, everyday go on a journey
to see the secrets hidden in your soul.
The warmness of tears that you will shed
when you endure the pain,
believe me little fairy it's worth it.
So, don't say it's your fault
that you are born as a daughter.
Cause their's no precious gift
which is given to you by your lord
as being a women.
Women's are the symbol of " Patience".
So, little fairy wait, have faith
and endure.
It's not a curse but a blessing,
keep it in your mind
little lost soul.
Feb 12, 2019
Feb 12, 2019 at 9:48 AM UTC
Your hand
moved like silence
on my shoulder—
not asking,
not waiting.
The sheet
slid down
just enough
to forget its name.
Your breath
settled between
my ribs
and the window.
We didn’t speak.
The night
had already
been told.
The fan spun
above bare skin
and promises
no one made.
You traced a path
below my navel—
a sentence
you never said aloud
but I remembered
for days.
Later,
you left
without shoes.
Your steps
soft
as permission.
I lay there,
the sky warming,
your warmth
still turning
in the folds.
- THE END -
© 2025 June, Hasanur Rahman Shaikh.
All rights reserved.
Jun 4, 2025
Jun 4, 2025 at 7:32 PM UTC
When you are stressed, upset
Angry, sad, depressed
Or just not in a good frame of mind
You usually turn to music
In order to calm your mind
And uplift your soul
Well, it is the same for me too
Except that just any music won't do
It has to be music composed by Harris Jayaraj
He comes up with songs
For almost all kinds of situations
Action, drama, suspense
Romance, love failure, family bonding
Comedy, friendship, school life, college life
Tragedy, war, crime
Urban, rural, semi-urban
The list is endless
His music has an undefinable charm
That makes you sit up and take notice
And appeals to the masses
As well as the classes
The softness of the instruments used
The variety of playback singers
And the unique fusion of Western and Indian music
Separate him from the rest
However, what he truly excels in
Are the melodies
Just listen to a few of them
And you'll feel like you've entered a different world altogether
You'll forget all your worries
And just live in the moment
In fact, that's how life should ideally be
Of course, he will also make you dance to his tunes
Just like a snake charmer
Except that the snake actually doesn't give two hoots about music
Rather, it focusses on the movements of the snake charmer
Anyway, coming back to Harris
For me, his music is the next best thing in the world
After trains and the mobile video game "Choices"
It always makes me feel better about myself
Like I can do anything in the world
Without getting swayed by the opinions of other people
Of course, there are other great musicians too
AR Rahman, Ilaiyaraaja, Hans Zimmer, John Williams
And top bands like Linkin Park, Evanescence, Boney M etc.
To name a few
However, as we say in Tanglish
Harris Jayaraj is "vera level"
And will always be
Mar 24, 2023
Mar 24, 2023 at 2:42 AM UTC
Now I don’t know what to do anymo'.
I am deep below my own trench,
and still falling into the deep, dark below.
Will I ever hit the bottom?
The point where there’s no further down—
only up? I know I feel like a clown.
But still,
No more confusion.
No more sadness.
Only hope and happiness, I guess.
Peace of mind.
With all the past behind.
I feel lost. I don't feel like me.
I feel like I’m falling.
I feel empty inside me.
- THE END -
© 2025 June, Hasanur Rahman Shaikh.
All rights reserved.
Jun 12, 2025
Jun 12, 2025 at 8:32 AM UTC
The matchbox
was hers—
bright red
with a tiger on it,
its head tilted
like it knew the ending.
One match left.
He kept it
in the drawer
beside loose buttons,
an eye drop bottle
half full,
a packet of salt
from a meal
they never finished.
He never lit it.
Not when
the bulb blew
above the stove.
Not when
monsoon took the power
three nights straight.
He’d reach—
then pause.
Then close the drawer
softly.
Until
the day
her number stopped ringing.
He struck it.
Once.
It flared—
brief, bright,
then gone.
The drawer
still smells
like her.
- THE END -
© 2025 June, Hasanur Rahman Shaikh.
All rights reserved.
Jun 5, 2025
Jun 5, 2025 at 10:48 PM UTC
The animosity of yesterday had vanished,
And now the flowers have bursted out—
As a hint to the world that the spring has finally come,
Leisurely, returning the globe its chromatic hues;
While it drowns me deeper into the ocean of colors,
Killing the blue.
The pillow fights amongst the angels have finally stopped,
For it's the fire ball's turn to spread the warmth all over the globe, slowly but surely.
And a smile eventually spread across my face; finally and finally.
Never have I understood the feeling of refreshing,
Until the day of God deciding to create a season that is spring.
I scream, I sing, I cry and cry to the universe,
For I'm home after a long time,
For I'm grateful for being granted another smile.
And this is the season I have been waiting for,
For I want to lost in the seasons of sadness no more.
—Jane A. Rahman
Mar 5, 2019
Mar 5, 2019 at 8:01 PM UTC
One of the best at it
moving efficiently
he cleans up his mess
using all the tools in his kit
Go on my brother
I knew you'd do it
Even when others don't understand
he cleans up his mess
working hard
doing what is needed
until all damaged parts
are buried in the sand
I say looking up
Bismillah hir rahman nir raheem
Please bring him again to the deen
He backs out strong
Brother's muscles moving
brother's gone
Do you need help?
randomly appearing another asked
Allah's voice speaking unmasked
I say looking up
my hands open to the sky
Bismillah hir rahman nir raheem
Please bring him again to the deen
He backs out strong
no need to look behind
the bright sight ahead
moving him right along
By: Najwa Kareem
Written on 12/22/21
Dec 25, 2021
Dec 25, 2021 at 12:37 PM UTC
Will I ever find my soulmate?
Who will bathe me with love,
bring peace like a dove,
Who will be more compassionate?
Whose heart will reflect in their eyes,
Bright like the stars that shine in the night skies?
Where are you, my beloved?
When will I find you?
I’ve preserved everything I have to give you.
I want to be loved, to be adored —
By you, the one whose love I desire,
Like a candle in a dark room needs fire.
Who will water me like someone waters a dying flower,
Take care of me like I’m battling a fever?
Who will hold me close on nights so cold,
Whispers of warmth, a refuge to behold?
Who will ease my worries, calm my mind,
And appreciate the love that’s so hard to find?
Who will see me for all that I am —
Flaws, doubts, weaknesses — yet still call me their gem?
Who will grow with me, side by side,
Across every storm, every high and low ride?
- THE END -
© 2025 June, Hasanur Rahman Shaikh.
All rights reserved.
Jun 13, 2025
Jun 13, 2025 at 12:12 AM UTC
During the chess game,
she made a good move.
I smiled a little,
typed:
"Nice"
Just felt right.
A simple thing.
No reply.
We played on.
It ended—a draw.
Then came her words.
First:
"indian"
I blinked.
Felt the air shift.
Then, second:
"monkey"
I just sat there.
Not hurt yet. Not angry.
Just… stunned.
Like: is this real?
I typed back:
"Why"
I added:
"You broke my heart"
I read it again.
Still stunned.
I didn’t know her.
Didn’t do anything.
We just played.
Then she dropped:
"virginity"
That word.
Out of nowhere.
Then:
"i no interesed"
"bye"
It didn’t sting.
It didn’t burn.
It just confused me.
Like the wind changed direction
and I wasn’t ready.
I wrote:
"Virginity?"
"What are you saying?"
No reply.
Just me,
sitting with a drawn game
and a question
I never saw coming.
Hope this poem reaches you.
To Juana Dayana
Of Colombia—
From HRS,
An Indian soul,
Caught in a drawn game’s pull.
- THE END -
© 2025 June, Hasanur Rahman Shaikh.
All rights reserved.
Jun 8, 2025
Jun 8, 2025 at 6:34 AM UTC
Bismillah hir Rahman nir Raheem.
I am glad I had Faith,
I believed in HIS ways,
I adhered to HIS path.
Now,I am six feet under,
I see, feel taste and hear HIS Light,
With countless senses,
With every fibre of my being.
I understand the sureness of his plan,
There are no sequence of events,
No, questions to ask,
All answers are here,
With downloads of information,
You are never confused,
You have a deeper sense of self awareness.
Sorrow, anxiety and remorse has no place here,
It's beautiful,
It's heaven,
My abode,
With only the presence and love of Allah and HIS Angels.
Oct 8, 2018
Oct 8, 2018 at 7:59 AM UTC
Your eyes,impish and mischievous
Your laughter's nonchalant insolence
Your hair unflured their waves undone
Never will I forget
Until I breathe this life
Your hand that abandoned mine
Your shadow that turned away it's gaze
Your look that never looked back
Never shall I forgive
Until I breathe this life
Your unabashed dancing in the rain
Your silly sulkings at all things small
Your innocent childlike mischief
Always shall I LOVE
Until I breathe this life
Your false vows and promises
Your burning scorching dreams
Your cruel ruthless prayers
Always I will hate
Until I breathe this life
Written by: Gulzar, Allahrakka Rahman, A R RAHMAN
Aug 6, 2019
Aug 6, 2019 at 1:28 AM UTC
I fear - my mistakes are mountain
And what to do except regret and despair
For all the wrongs I have done?
Now clearly I either see
I am insane and could not be right
Or just unfortunate one with that.
What else to do,
Except to knock on door of mercy
Of Ar-Rahman?
What else to do,
Then cry the plea of help
For lost mind and heart.
Jul 12, 2020
Jul 12, 2020 at 2:18 PM UTC
The curtain moved.
Not with wind—
but with something
warm,
like breath held
then let go.
Her anklet scraped
the floor tile
only once.
Your tea
steeped too long
on the windowsill.
The calendar page
was blank.
Her scarf stayed
where she dropped it—
on the chair’s back,
faint with
lemon shampoo.
And you—
you didn’t touch it.
Not then.
But later,
you folded it.
Twice.
As if
that meant
you hadn’t looked.
- THE END -
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Jun 17, 2025
Jun 17, 2025 at 9:27 AM UTC