My diary

Life events are the ink

Years are pages

I used each one

to scribble, draw and write

Never could I erase it

Rules never permitted

Each moment was an exam to pass

results popped up in phases

sometimes I wrote  on other’s pages

and they wrote for me too in delight

few times we did fight

wrong  or right

I can’t remember 

once out of sight

mostly, I was the lone writer

I am sure, my blank pages 

that I have in store

are getting used up..and one day

there will be no more

for me to write on

that day will be the last page of my life

as someone else will write for me

wrap me and bury me 

it would mark my end

and be an event for other’s  life

Pages..that is ages are gone 

Events  of ink got dried up

I would cease to be,

except for the last ink

written with tears, when eyes did blink

remembering me..once more

last .eventful..then..its all long time ago..

By kalabalu

Architect-urban designer

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