Ghost

By Aahna Rawat

Once there was a child,

With brown eyes and curly hair,

Twirling her skirt in the wind,

And following butterflies on the way,

Now here I am,

With glasses on my eyes,

And a thousand thoughts in my head,

Trying to type my worries away,

Like they're pests on the grain,

There are plans to meet up,

And invites to celebrate,

"Maybe next time", is what I say,

Not realising that 'next' may be too late,

With no batteries, no cells,

Still, I see a robot in myself,

There are no strings attached,

Then why do I feel like a puppet in my own hands?

Waves after waves, sunset after sunset,

The days come apart,

Is it me;

Or time is the one chasing me away?

Trapped in my glass dome,

I see the others;

Blurry, stressed and running,

Which makes me fear,

Cause I won't see them, until I am too close to become one myself,

A ghost.

By Aahna Rawat