Talking to myself

Hundreds of people on busy street, it’s a routine, what the rush
Loud noise of people chattering, shouting, yelling
Vehicles aren’t any less too
Earphone’s on,
Eminem’s playing on,
Probably, a better way to keep everything on mute
Black t-shirt, blue jeans,
A backpack on shoulder,
Filled with documents
Of 21 years’ wasted time
And couple of resumes
Walking slowly, very
Measuring distance by number of cigarettes smoked
I’m talking to myself.

Setting sun covered in clouds
Orange color everywhere
Birds in groups going back home,
Chirping happily
Serenity, cool breeze blows,
What a romantic weather
Throat filled with sorrow
Tears squirm in eyes
Is there any ear to listen?
Certainly not!
Heavy head, heavy heart
Months end on the date she was around for the last time
I’m talking to myself.

Photo Credit: flickr.com
Photo Credit: flickr.com
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11 Comments

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  1. I love this.

  2. Been really busy lately. Couldn’t catch up with your amazing posts. But Neeraj, you are and were doing an amazing job.
    I love this one. An amazingly exquisite piece.

  3. This is really nice

  4. “I’m talking to myself.”

    I guess half of Metro -dwellers would be doing this only.
    Nice poem.

  5. this is a lovely and sad piece – beautiful:)

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