Tuesday, 14 March 2017


Everyone thinks 
I am burden of everyone
I am conduit of nothingness
My grey hair, pinched skin, not their choice,
I am morbid rostrum in their eyes,
I cannot support their lineage,
I cannot hold their esteem,
As if I am an opulent moratorium,
I am like a feeble water melon,
It can be easily broken
And be thrown out of their wits,
And some rotten parts cannot be put
Into an aluminum foil to parcel
For their pleasure and consumption,
I am not their Rupees stores,
I am shards, no dream within.

In me they find frustrating evolution.
Care for life has different meaning to them,
I cannot put will in them,
They do not make much of my love
What I wish and what I desire,
I only put poor show for their vigor.