Canvas

You were the canvas of my life

All my colors were to be there

The brush I used was of poor quality to

hold the hues for longer time

The colors were adulterated to leave any imprint

Now the faded painting is waiting to be thrown

or kept as a memoir

As a clutter or a discarded item

How the bliss of bringing the canvas to

my home was stealthily eroded

With tarnished images

Apparition of moments and memories

Inconsolable, pitiable indeed!!