Strange expectations,
Impossible and in reach,
Cloud my aspirations-
A year or more,
Of habit of failures,
Wrecking the ship
That once was brightly lit.
As the mind shifts its base-
Trying to think of it
Less and less,
The more it haunts
The more it stings,
Melancholic tunes
Sound beautiful,
As the lachrymose eyes
Bleed colorless.
The best I know
From what I learnt,
Is not to expect;
For the best surprises
Are the ones that
Pull you off your seat,
Sudden and incognizant;
Laughter and tears
In a motley
That they call life.
No comments:
Post a Comment