Closed Gate

I climbed that wall,

I came this far

To find your closed gate.

But, I came to visit your garden

And eat the cherries like we did each day.

Climbing atop your backyard tree,

You carefully making two equal heap

And then we ran around

Or played hide and seek

And like everyday, I came again to play

I rang your Bell

And then ran to hide behind the cherry tree

Only to my distress, I did see

You had found a new friend to play with

Eating my share of the cherries.

I began writing this poem in a very different way and I ended up writing something I didn’t even have in mind and as Robert Frost said..” A poem…begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness,a love sickness. It is a reaching-out toward expression;an effort to find fulfillment. A complete poem is one where an emotion finds the thought and the thought finds the words.”

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