Of countless quirks and motley shape,
In local trains and parking lot,
Who smile back more often than not,
Strangers of the routine landscape.

Then there are those I once knew,
Now strangers they remain,
The fabric of ties torn and crumpled,
Threadbare tears and laughter shared,
Through those gaping holes I view my past, 
Friends, love, familia.

Strangers who would ne’er join each dot,
Witnesses to squall, wounds agape,
Folks I know I yearn to escape,
And reflect in an unknown spot.

But the one that seems to bother me,
I see him every single day,
Aware of my thought behind every deed, 
He seems to smile at me too,
I can’t seem to meet his eye,
The stranger in the mirror.

Of all the strangers I have survived
Truth remains the strangest, so far.
Connect with Penmancy:



Penmancy gets a small share of every purchase you make through these links, and every little helps us continue bringing you the reads you love!

Latest posts by Khushboo Shah (see all)

Let us know what you think about this story.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

© Penmancy 2018 All rights reserved.
%d bloggers like this: