He’s the boy who survived,
And the dead lullaby.
He's the Purple Heart,
And the lopsided smile.
He’s the colors in
grey,
And the prayers in
white.
He's the quiet of the
noisy mess,
And the song on a
silent road.
He's the summer I'll never
forget,
And the night I can’t
remember.
He's the silence of the
words unsaid,
And the echo of my loud
thoughts.
He's the memory of the
bonfire,
The half story of this
broken poem.
- Sayantani Sarkar.
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