5 Jan 2007

The dressing table mirror,
Plates, cups, saucers,
Your beloved mobile
My glass eye, your sunglasses
My camera, your framed photo
My Phillips shaver, your toothbrush
Your window, my door handle
Your nails, my teeth
The television or
The vase with the glass rose
Your laptop, my precious CD’s
Our dog’s back bone,

Darling, sweet darling,
Of all the things you could break,
Why did you break my heart?

Zainab Bhatti

zaza at 8:51 pm

7 angels shot me


at January 06, 2007 Anonymous Anonymous said...

omg wat hav u done to ur blog...its all black n wierd???

at January 07, 2007 Blogger rooosh said...

nice one.

thanks for visiting by =)

at January 07, 2007 Anonymous Anonymous said...

very well elaborated!

at January 08, 2007 Blogger Lizzie.... said...

simply allla! I loved the simplicity of your words and the emotion behind it :)
nice template :)

at January 09, 2007 Anonymous zab said...

anon - its called a template?

sa - oki! uu can visit nytime too

illusion n lizzie - thnx. theres so much more in store :)

at January 10, 2007 Blogger ~Asma~ said...

aww :$ now this is the kind of poem u read and u ask urself "wait wht m i SUPPOSED to feel?"...hehe..seriously...
i dont kno if its just me and if nybody else sees it this way or not..but to me, at first, it kind of felt like some witty limerick :$ ...k so i kno m making a big fool out of myself saying this...:$...but oh well..the thing is...tht it's sad but then there's this sudden irony...i mean the shift from all the material things to a symbol; and it's so unexpected...tht u're like, "wait...wow!" :$ ah! i can go on and on about this :$...*zips herself*
the point is: me likey likey! hehe
*thumbs up*

at January 10, 2007 Anonymous zab said...

hey asma. thanks so much for droppin by. i understnd what u mean n u didn make a fool of urself :)


Post a Comment