Author: Amtul Hajra

un-optimistic, Poet, and a friend to many.

Unkn(own)

imageByAmtul HajraOctober 22, 2019
I’ve been to far off places, Not one of them were as queer as you. You’re like a strategy dug so deep, I sense sadness when I hold you Melancholy, at the rim of your throat; Like a place I’ve not known. The words pouring out of your mouth When you speak,

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A Shattered Poem

imageByAmtul HajraJuly 13, 2019
I don’t even know what to write anymore, Abruptly, All of the words are on the shore.   None makes sense of what  An obstructed mind  Would presume.   Im choking on all  Of my raw  Undone Prompts.   That float Above the sea Of too

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Reverence for words.

imageByAmtul HajraMay 8, 2019
I write, More than I speak. I carry my words In feathers. They’re silver lined Like the moon. I touch them with a Light hand. Fearing they might shatter too; (My framework alike) My idioms, Are vague, unclear and appalling. Sometimes, Delicate and clumsy. I sit

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A Bad Dream.

imageByAmtul HajraApril 6, 2019
Timid And scared. There I lie. I can’t breathe, Nor can I tell you why. Im gasping for oxygen, Like there’s nothing more I could lose. I’m feeling numb again; Possibly for the hundredth time. I endure a rush In my veins, The poison Of anxiety running

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Her Favorite Color

imageByAmtul HajraMarch 28, 2019
What was her favorite color? Was it the brown in your eyes? Or Was it the pink in your smile? Was it the black that you so often wore? Or The red that you adored? Was it the blue that reflected through your eyes, While watching the sky changing dyes? Or The Green

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