UntitledStamp, please I said and the fat lady with the pincenez did. Nay, on this, shall I lay it down ? Her brown eyes were red. I hastened a smile This for my li'l sister, she lives in Maine, and like you she'll begin service in a post-office there soon. She sighed and I licked the stamp on and my smile off. Have a good day, and I walked away into a sign TODAY CLOSING DOWN. |
If |
|
| Would you cry for me | |
| if tomorrow I died? | |
| Would your life same be | |
| if of my love deprived? | |
| Would you cadence jus' the same | |
| if my voice be muted? | |
| Would you make up your face | |
| if the light in my eyes bated? | |
| Would your sway have that tease | |
| if my walk crippled were? | |
| Would you ever say cheese | |
| if I lost my laughter? | |
| Would you touch my heart still | |
| if I were to numb go? | |
| Would you also feel the chill | |
| if there were furrows on my brow? | |
| Would you ever give me an answer | |
| if to words a voice I could impart? | |
| I look helplessly as they wither | |
| and die in a corner of my heart. |
| Aman Behal |