The Tea Cup
H.Sanbika is medically oriented by degree though she's not practicing it currently, Her passion on scribbling thoughts dragged her here.
“She awaits the rain like a writer embraces metaphors,
A drizzle isn't for the child who dances in the storm.
Of rain that washes away the petrichor it brings,
A downpour of a hail of bullets, and she calls it spring.”
― Sanhita Baruah, The Farewell and other poems
H.Sanbika Photos
The Tea Cup
You walked down the stairs
Flowers in hand and dressed to your best
You look inspired with those dazzling eyes
I was your maid
Serving your guest
She sits in the lawn
Waiting for you
As I came near
The tea was spilled
Broken pieces lay on the floor
I was deeply cut
By the view I saw
You held her hand
And slipped the band
I picked the pieces so mindlessly
Drops of blood paints the floor
You saw and asked,
"Are you alright?"
I smiled and nod
But as I turned back
Drops of tears fell down my eyes
© 2017 Himeko Sanbika