It's played with much anguish
This twisted, seething game
Where you search and find and hold in your hands
To lose it all again
The 'it',usually, in poetic minds,
could be love, life, or time;
But in truth, it's just the house key
And nothing too sublime
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This late night walk after a tough, rough unending day at work. I am so, so exhausted. But this...sweet chutney of wind, lane littered wit...
6 comments:
Aww Mukta :) how cute u are!
ha ha ha. that is so absolutely true!! there is nothing more profound in the world than the mundane!
hahahaha .... good one !!
haha :) thats very well written
:D
Sounds quite scornful to me :D
Nice!
Cheers,
Me
:) A lovely poem.. precise, simple and profound all at once!
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