He sat alone in fading light,
Glasses gleamed, red stains in sight.
Fingerprints that wouldn’t fade,
Marks of choices he had made.
He’d stare for hours, past and pain,
Haunted by what still remained.
A whisper rose from shadows deep:
“You can't escape what secrets keep.”
He wiped the glass, but truth held tight—
Some stains stay, even in the night.
About the Creator
Komal
I write poems and stories that hit the feels.
When I’m not lost in my own plots, I’m either daydreaming about the next big idea or just winging life with a grin.
𝕀 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℙ𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕠 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕒𝕟 𝕀𝕄ℙ𝔸ℂ𝕋
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