Shelley Mishra

  Picture source: Pinterest  Dated: 25th of January 2023 Tired face, bulged eyes, paining limbs and a longing heart  All clutched onto Sierra’s feeble body that could no longer bear the brunt Every look into the mirror mocked her for unfulfilled dreams  Every silver lock that descended from the head onto the brush elicited how old she was  Every moment of silent weeping scoffed her for the risks she refused to take For the valour she refused to demonstrate in the fear of reputes and retakes This was another visit to the mirror and of brushing her silken locks Unlike the usual silver hair that resided on the brush, a black hair gently touched the surface Her eyes gleamed, tears rolled down, her spirits soared I t was a shiny black hair this moment  Before she could revel in it, the black hair shone The hair swayed in feather like waves, glowed like a diamond embedded crown Sierra again looked into the mirror, her smile became wide It was a young face, radian...

  A self clicked picture which I found appropriate for the poem  Dated: 31st of December 2022 Sandra peeped out the window, at the flakes that adorned the hillside  Eyes housed her tears that fell on the panes with noise that was slight  Her heart was heavy, her eyes were tired  Nineteen year old Sandra, still, felt perplexed  She looked forward to a brighter tomorrow, which, never was, dark She frowned at the bitter today which actually, was lighted by a spark  She was cold, she was quiet, lost in her thoughts of good people  Until she heard a knock that was feeble  “The light’s here. Let me in. It’s cold outside. I’m here for you.” She looked up, the eyes, still wet, shone like sun kissed dew Sandra, opened her window to find a gleaming entity Bedecked by apparels that seemed magical and silvery His eyes had a divine light  Gaze capable of blinding the sight  Held his palms near her eyes to catch every tear that fell He asked, “Is...