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The bridge woman
Image credit: Google

Peachy skin.

She stood alone at the bridge waiting for her suitor

She was no ghost at midnight

Plain human

False promise

Broken and shattered inside

Her mind stopped like the clock in the past

Her hair bore streak of gray

The translucent beauty lost its sheen,

like the moon at nightfall

Scars remained etched in her heart

No sane soul would ever believe in love again

But, not her!

She was alien to the treachery

Every day, she lived in hope

He will come,

Her heart reasoned

One day, a speeding car hit her near the bridge

Blood ravaged her body and soul

It was his car

He finally came and ravaged her.

She was liberated from the agony.

Yet, in her last moments,

she nurtured hope.

His u-turn claimed her soul years ago,

she pinned for his love.









Work-in-progress, seeker and bundle of contradictions. Stubborn and Refusal to grow up and constantly in search of myself, I blurt it out on my space. Drop in and share some love. Indian by choice.

12 thoughts on “The bridge woman

    1. In fact, I didn’t expect the poem to turn that way…lost her soul and memory when promises were unkept. Her memory stops to that phase of longing and waiting at the bridge before being killed by the same person. Thanks Vinitha. You understood the poem so well. Yet, she is no ghost.

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