The bowl,
Won’t break on meteor shower,
That’s surface,
Is distempered in twinge,
Beneath which,
Lies my heart defunct my love,
I haven’t tore,
The wallpaper off its walls,
Since ages;
Lessons learnt:
(They get you anyway,)
‘Drought comes solely for what’s green,’
Seasons don’t change here,
Not anymore;
Listen,
Crippled my visage,
Didn’t just fall out,
It partitioned in cracks,
Post it curdled,
With deceit so pure;
I’m a notorious Paper-tiger,
But it stopped bothering me now,
It’s the medal I got,
For altruism,
And for love off course.
What?
Resuscitation for me?
Ah!!!
That’s so cruel of you.
Written for Wordle#49 @ MLMM
Image Artist: Alexiuss
As you can see, I’m FINALLY catching up with your poems, Neeraj! I would’ve done it earlier, but I just didn’t see them on my Reader although I was definitely following you. Can’t wait to read them all today. Yay.