Those who recede..
They are silent..
Silent like a kitten
Thrown out by grasping on neck..
Some times they peep through
The holes of the door
Because they expect
A call back..
Wounds are painful
It's the time that apply
First the wounds heal
There may be scars..
That also vanish slowly..
They will come back
With definite steps
With strong voice..
Again they will get inside..
Through that open door
Will sit on that old seat
Again the kitten mew...
Some times the door won't open
The kitten mew and mew..
The voice become feeble and feeble
And the poor kitten
Will vanish at the end...
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