The old paths, I cross,
Seems to be sometimes my closest friend.
Sharing with me,
Memories, happiness, naughtyness,
& craziness performed in troops.
.
.
The familiar paths, I cross,
Are really dear to me.
Having my blind trust,
Soothing me, comforting me,
Letting me know, where my next steps are.
Doing all favours, which new path can't.
.
.
The old paths, I cross,
Knows me well.
Very concerned about my needs,
Directing me to the correct corner.
Ending up simplifying & sorting my life.
.
.
The familiar paths, I cross,
Bears my all complains of decrepit structure.
Letting me compare the innovations done, from before.
& sometimes surprising me with similar faces.
Whom I met days before.
.
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The old paths, I cross,
Sometimes leads to unknown destiny,
Surprises me with new & variety.
Excites me, when conjugates with new.
Adding thrill & charm to the journey.
.
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The familiar paths, I cross,
Always remains a mystery to me.
Since childhood till yet,
Confusing me, hustling me to the thoughts.
That 'Where Does It Ends?'.
.
.
The old paths, I cross,
Knows my secrets.
Secrets of choices, secrets of conversations.
Secrets of daily actions, secrets of sudden fear.
Secrets of some unerring steps while music is on.
.
.
The familiar paths, I cross,
Although are near & dear.
But sometimes acts like hurdle,
In the way of Exploring.
Attracting me, tantalizing me.
Doesn't letting me go.
-Fauzia Afreen
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