Published April 2, 2015 by Shreya Rajvanshi

It’s thirty minutes past midnight,
A dim lamp basking in the yellow light,
Giving me a little sunshine
In this dark room, as I come in,
Slowly sit down, and start wondering
About how contrast works,
Dark room, yellow light,
Black walls, white mind,
Closed doors, open windows,
And a cup of coffee in my hand,
A little sweet, a little bitter,
Quite strong, quite sober,
Making me notice the little
Contrasts of moments,
As I swiftly pen them down
In this poem.


3 comments on “Contrast.

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