Remnant
Resembling black tar that’s several years old,
It looked back at the latest eyes,
From a consistent lack of blink,
Stuck in the parts of here,
Where its suppose to be.
Marks of time in mending lies,
Log but curved and close.
Rain is innocent.
What are you saying?
Why were you made?
Leaving you to ponder.
Distracted hands are the culprit.
©Aashiq S, India
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