Hopscotch

Maya*, do you remember our boisterous childhood?
We were hopping over the marked squares.
At last you hopped over the horizon
leaving me alone in my dormitory.
I stuck in my room with the pile of books.
The gust rattled my tiny windows
and I am scared that my fragile heart will scatter
and blow away like a withered leaf.
I am already frustrated in the rat race
and this raw deal never allow me to jump
over the hurdle.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!