
When little sister gets in the mood to pen poems, encouragement is essential, here is featuring her word play π
I had set out with a dream
One that I had harboured for ages
In the depths of my heart
Scribbled in the pages of a diary
That did not exist but
In the folds of my mind, a start
Fresh and alone
As I trudged through cobblestone
With my baggage – literal and otherwise
I sought to live – yes live- in a foreign land
Away from family, away from home
It taught me a couple, no a million
Things that are now a part of my being
Things that I have seen, things that I am seeing
Of different sceneries, of different tongues,
Of a different mud and the air that fills my lungs
That is not the same as the land of my birth
Yet there are similarities too, oddly enough
Of people and their behaviours
Their colours and their flavours
Their smiles and their humour
Their warmth and their demeanour
Which made me find, in the chambers of my heart
In the depths of my mind, in cultures far apart
A semblance of belonging, a feeling of home
To which I dedicate this very poem
– Ankita Mitra
How old is she? And this is rather nice. I liked It! She can maybe start a blog of her own π
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Since a woman’s age cannot be disclosed π , let’s just say old enough to survive alone in a new land. On that note, will suggest your idea to her. Thank you for the appreciation π
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I never got this practice of women not sharing their age. Age is just a number. But to each it’s own. Wishing you both the best!
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