Treasure Island

Spandan Bhattacharyya

(17.03.1968 / Kolkata, India)

The Times


The train passes by and not waiting for me
And I stand alone alongwith thee

The doors are knocked, the tears are wept
And none respond all have slept

The stars are shining low and deep
And the wind is blowing like a whip

It is a notion it is a whim
That time can turn and time can swim

Time stands still and events passby
I stand confused, wide open my eyes.

Poet: Spandan Bhattacharyya

Submitted: Sunday, May 14, 2006

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