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EVEN IN DEATH…….MY FRIEND (An autobiography of a Comb)

Even in death, I found a friend,

Nay, many friends I should say,

For to such a state I was led;

And like many before me,

My story’s the same!

Richly adorned on a bed of velvet blue

I stayed in a window

Like others did too.

I was one of a kind, So beautiful and bright

 That they stared at me

Knowing I was for them not.

But one day came a vision true

Who wanted to own me too,

And when asked, I was happy to say, ‘I do’.

I was whisked away,

Oh! it was a dream day

To chambers so rare,

Given the highest place

Among other friends.

I sat there like a Queen

Much adored for days galore.

But not for long was this state of bliss,

For something soon went amiss!

My friend the mirror told me what

And I was horrified at my lot.

My color faded and my body ruined

I was in a state far from good

For time had taken its toll; I was utterly destitute

I had been succeeded by another!

Who would face the same fate,

Sometime in the future

I was thrown in the dustbin

And there I met my kith and kin,

Along with others seen before.

Then we were young and now we were old

Facing the same fate

While ahead lay the unknown

Yes! Even in death I found friends

And I was happy you know!

                    Mamta Apte

 

 

 

Published inPoetry

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