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The looming clouds
Hover over the wary sky,
And the timid sun,
Hides behind the black curtains.

The scary storm
Flings the strayed kite,
As it helplessly
Flies towards the high mountains.

The pouring drops
Drowns the paper-boats,
And inundate
The poor tiny lanes.

The fading light
Scares a little boy,
As in the pastures,
He tends the herd of cattle.

When you’re afraid,
And you’ve nowhere to go,
You must know,
There’s a place called home.

A mother’s kiss—
So soft and tenderly,
Nurses all the scars,
And heals all the pains.

The father’s words,
So very sincere—
Says there’s a rainbow,
After it rains.

A long-lost friend
Greets with open arms,
And brings back those
Sweet golden-old days.

A childhood crush
Meets with a blushing smile,
That excites you
In the same old ways.

You’ve wandered so long,
And gone so far;
How long will you roam?
It’s time you head back home.

It’s time to come back home—
Where you’re safe and not alone.
It’s your home;
Come back home.


[Published in the book “Kaafiyana”]


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