By-Angelaa Kaur


Dear loneliness


To begin with, I am sorry because

 I lied, you are not dear to me,

 you never really were.


But you are my punctual and faithful best friend

who creeps in

mostly at the dirtiest hours

when the long clutchy

hands of the clock resonate

with the tune of my tears.


Though you stand by me when nobody else does,

you must know,

you have consumed every part

of me like the termites do

to the woods. you see, now

I have nothing left to fill in myself.


Although on some days, you

make me feel as if I am

fighting a never ending war,

but I do not really agree to

people who talk ill of you,

for you have given me my

way with palpable words.


You have taught me to measure

my emptiness in deep nights,

in versus of poetry,

in eyes of people.

Trust me, it is like

the depth of ocean.


Importantly, you have given me my time with new colours to fill and paint a new blazy world.


Lately, I do realize, you have given me the ability to find and see sunsets,

rays of sunshine at dawn,

the phases of moon,

the sky,

the stars as a great opportunity to

carve out a new way,

a whole new narrative maybe.


So, the next time you wait for

me at 3 am, hoping I would

ring your bells, believe me

you will be in for disappointments.


For after these long years with you,

I have started liking being on my own and now, I am okay

with and about it.       



This poem has been published in the book 'The Last Flower Of Spring'. Buy the paperback copy on Amazon:

1 comment

  • I like how the letter started in the format of a letter; perhaps the ending could be in the same format? The imagery of the termites is interesting and stands out in the poem.

    Athira Unni

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