Memory

Everyone has in heart, memory of someone.
Not many those reside, but just one.
A tide winds up the heart, a tornado walks down up to the core until they listen ’em.
A hidden desire would live up if they come.
A sudden dire would be change in the weather if they come.
We feel sad by knowing that we’ve not earned anything in life,
This sorrowful fire would end up if they come.
They don’t meet us, the world doesn’t treat us, life spent feels torturous,
Even foe in the row of friends would bow if they come.
Life understood and even then unable to walk face-up outta hood,
Is the basic difference amidst learnt and done,
And everyone has in their heart, memory of someone.
By Vish
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