In the home so safe and secure
Every wisp of gentle air
Filled with love, so divine and pure,
Caressed us with utmost care.
It was a cosy place called the womb.
Where we did dwell
And as we slowly started to bloom,
Things weren’t well.
The cosy abode turned into hell,
As it couldn’t bear
After being struck and shattered by the shell,
And was damaged beyond repair.
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An IT professional turned teacher, Kirti took into poetry writing during the lockdown last year. Apart from being a voracious reader, she enjoys music, sports, and drawing. She loves reading and writing across many Indian languages. She is a good orator and loves to recite poems.
Latest posts by Kirti V (see all)
- Unique Relationship - 11 Apr 2023
- Céleste Poésie - 20 Dec 2022
- Voice From the Coffin - 18 Nov 2022
