"smita" poems
We have never actually met
I mean physically, of course
But we've got to know each other well
Over the course of six years
When we had our first conversation
I looked up to you, as a senior colleague
In fact, I still do
Especially considering the way you handle certain clients
Who have given us a lot of trouble, over the years
And the way you manage your work
Given that you have to deal with a lot of family matters as well
Is nothing short of exemplary
However, you are not just my senior
You are a good friend of mine too
That's why I rant a lot
As far as work is concerned
Because I know you will listen and understand
And many a time, I find
That I feel much better
After sharing my issues with you
Of course, it works both ways
I am always ready to listen
When it is your turn to rant
Hopefully, it is only a matter of time
Before we eventually meet
Nevertheless, our relationship goes on to show
That it is definitely possible
For two people to be good friends
Without meeting each other face-to-face
Apr 23, 2023
Apr 23, 2023 at 9:29 AM UTC
I've been in this play before.
I've heard
and spoken these lines.
Will I speak them to you?
I will. But first, about this fly.
I'll tell you about it being
my reincarnated friend, Smita.
She's back to swim in my ointment.
She's back
to tell me it's okay to be
careless with what you wish for.
Her soul would fly up among my wishes.
As a fly she can't fly anywhere
but around me, so she flies to where
I stand and stays in my hand.
I take her
back to that stage where we began.
With no mouth to speak her lines
she still gives them to me. I would say:
"She never understood.
I only ever wanted to love her."
within the seconds of this,
my second time.
But Smita has me say only
"Love," instead.
Sep 17, 2012
Sep 17, 2012 at 10:26 PM UTC