Wednesday, 2 October 2013


Things dont even matter when you don't care,
Why is it that even then you think to dare.

No relation, no connection, no emotion yet sad,
No fault, yet it feels futile, worse than being just mad.

There wasn't a thing, not the smallest of links there,
All was mere supposition on this silly part I swear.

Why should it hurt when there was never a wound,
No pain yet its bad enough going back around.

Thinking is of no use some say, some say ignore,
If only it was so easy you are all but called a bore.

No one really cares for what you think of it,
For all have their life to live playing the small bit.

Your mind's a mess, a bad mess but why,
Can't understand just as the wide blue sky.

Why did the mind had the silly chocolate of hope,
And when you see the empty wrapper you know its the end of the rope.

The world is going on its way all the time and days,
No one has got time for your chatter and meddling ways.

The healing of an imaginary wound which never existed,
Is the hardest thing to do for its really really twisted.

The empty space becomes a void of fear,
For you realise it was fiction and walls of wear.

The time when you think of what could be done,
You give priority to the person who wud hav been the number one.

Ohh if only there would have been a story for some awhile,
Ohh if only there was the word "if" I would smile.

And then you see your friend's awaiting text on your cell,
Creeps then the silly smile and you say all is welll.

For life's too short too ponder and write poems abound,
Smile, laugh atleast try and move on, for whatever may come earth's still round.

No comments:

Post a Comment