Blue blood on mimosa lane
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It’s June already, the jacarandas have all gone,
But my heart is still bleeding with the flowers,
That you crushed on the lanes of this city,
Leaving blue blood oozing in the rains,
Beneath the flowers was my heart,
But you crushed it, leaving behind,
A trail of devastation,
Like dozers do with illegal huts,
Made of small, beautiful dreams,
On the banks of the Bagmati………
I have become a refugee soul,
Tell me where do I go now,
From the city of crushed dreams,
With a bleeding heart and a wounded soul………..
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