I’ve walked aside a wall

This poem is different. What makes it different is the fact that this is the first poem I’ve written on my study table, that too, because I’ve learnt a lesson after my eye test! 

This one’s basically for all the people I’ve met till yet… 

 

I’ve walked aside a wall till yet,

Hanging on which,

Thousands of paintings live.

And I’ve seen those times,

When over it I leaned,

When these feet of mine

Had forgotten the ways.

It gave me shores,

When in the seas of my kryptonite,

I was drowning;

And taught me to feel my existence,

When I thought I was lost,

Somewhere within me.

 

Not to trust my hands,

It tells my soul,

For my head has disowned them,

And the heart has adopted.

With it, they’ve learnt to flow freely

And caressing and kissing the walls they move.

Now all paintings that hang,

Have had my fingerprints,

Some swallowed these imperfections,

And some named it the art,

The piece de resistance,

Of a painting.

 

I’ve walked aside a wall till yet,

Hanging on which,

Thousands of paintings live.

And I’ve left a trail

That shall be continued.

These paintings ask me to own them,

And take them with me,

I look above at the grey skies,

Which gestures me to move,

For possession is pain,

I thought.