Tuesday, 1 May 2012


I know my phone calls are not your concern,
You show your human mind seeking settlement,
That makes me to move on cyclic turning.

I am alone; I know my musing is unconvincing,
I need tools, familiar shelter to make favorite things,
You may not respond; it is changed symptom.

I know it is my wrong choice
My voice is not comfortable, hollow tune,
A rudely sized pattern you may not like.

I am not outsmart creation of mind,
I know hope is not here, or it is gone,
My literacy of web page creation lacks promotion.

I know I live in a decay of my age,
A human mind cannot feel the reality I suffer,
All are moving for money and career.

I know my search is an abandoned idea,
As my web page has no merit for friendship,
To meet long time wants on my feeling altogether.

I know I am moving with fade dreams,
My body does not sway with boost of glance,
A sad part that I partake in my affection.

I know my shelter or my phone calls are torments,
I forget to think simple way of living,
And I have to learn to say, “I am not mad of you.”


  1. like this one asim .. it is hard to fight that urge not to rise to the bait when all is not what you want it to be .. i think you expressed it really well ..

  2. Thanks dear lady and poet friend Anita for your sweet and beautiful comments. I love it.