The old dusty road deserted... Disgrace
With the beggar begging grounds
Concealed excruciation behind every face
The winter reminds the morns of summer..
Torn pages of hope rots and weeps, you can’t even hear
Smiles like creams plastered all over you
Soporific memories make fun of your fear …
The sky never answers the “why me?”
Despoiled puerility searches for you at last
The new born, in your womb still hopes, dreams
But to you, chocolate tastes like lust …
- by wreetojyoti
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