Why did I do it?
Why does my heart ache?
Why so much pain do I take?
To nurture something so fake….
Aye, to nurture something so fake.
Blinded was I, by the money in the purse,
Fogged was I, by the gallantry terse.
All that was but an act of commerce
And alone was I, amid the concourse.
Finally I gathered strength to through away,
That flower which never was mine any day.
For so it pricked my hand all day,
That I bled tears all along the way
Poem by: Annu Mathew,St.Teresa's College
Photo by: Shafiq, St.Albert's College
