Dust.

On the corner of the room.
The dust sitting alone.
Forgotten by the broom.
Left untouched on its own.
No one asking questions.
No one bother to know.

Get Niskalaa’s stories in your inbox

Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.

Remember me for faster sign in

What’s hidden under the dust?
Even the landlady asks.
On her own so called home.
There’s something hidden and forgotten.
Yet she doesn’t bother to find out.
Simply just stares at the dust.
With shame on both eyes.