Alas! My tears aren’t dry alone,
Even my smile does carry the same genre.
The dryness chokes my throat at times,
But there won’t be any hiccups this time!
Speaking out load, routinely hang-outs,
Craze for social sites, plea for love bites,
Every scene turning out to be a dried desire,
As if suicidal impulses within a struggling fire.
I toss a coin, it shows me life,
I toss it again until it refers to suicide.
I pen down few last words, and then I realize,
On either side of the coin, it’s you and your voice!
I wish to hear you one last time,
Before anyone could spot the lovely grime,
But it follows,”Damn it! Pick up my call”,
And an untouched leaf is ready to fall.
A dance in rain, funny smile in pain,
Utterance of “nothing”, and mute disdain,
Every scene bringing out a fake desire,
As if suicidal impulses within a timid lair.
.
.
.
The dryness chokes my throat at times,
But there won’t be any hiccups this time!
