On lonely nights like today, I feel like harking back to yesterday, While jumping forth to morrow. As I long nostalgically for the hallowed past, I regret not having romantic company in the present, All the same imagining a curiously frisky future. The old me was the mellow kind, The current me, reeking with all
Your face brims with fervent joy As if you’re thrilled about something exciting, Only for your black rimmed glasses To add to the innocent charm And make you look all the more sweeter. The dimple on your cheek Is like the the quintessential icing on the cake And would have definitely made the day of
When you don’t feel anything, When you feel tremendous guilt, When you feel worthless, When you have no hopes, When you see no future, When no one wants you, When your whole world collapses in front of your eyes, When you see no end in sight to your misery, When you have everything taken away
On one hand, I am trying to move ahead in the world, On the other hand, I am emotionally held back by the lack of companionship. On one hand, I am trying to project that I don’t need anyone, On the other hand, I am always searching for that special someone. On one hand, I
My heart’s breaking as I write this number, But I will take heart in the fact that goodbyes are not forever. I am adapting to the changing COVID-19 time And calling on my room an untimely halftime. I am leaving behind fond memories For you to create rich, new tapestries. This is a magical place
Worthless facts I detest alot, Abitrary numbers I see no sense cramming in, Theoretical trash, that is better off thrashed, Better, give me a Kafka, Nietzsche or a Nabokov, Appended with logic, brains and a beautiful bow, I promise to devour it like a pirate, Hunting for an invaluable treasure-trove.
The searing heat is still on, But the debilitating dust is all but gone; The threat has been reduced to nada, But there still remain small pockets of adversarial armada; The traffic and commotion have altogether vanished And the surroundings now seem more or less polished; Hardships have decreased manifold, And pain is now slowly
I now realize the importance of a weekend, And can start treating it as a Reverend, Unbeknownst to one and all, The relentless efforts that I put in all the while, Sweating it out, literally, Without batting an eyelid, Succumbing to dark circles for a while, Before giving them the boot, Making every second count,
Life is a bitch, Karma always precipitates a hitch And could perhaps have you fall into a ditch; It is also not advisable to become a snitch, Whereby even a single glitch Could utterly ruin your sitch And transform you into a overnight witch Instead of your hoped-for magnate, rich; So, no matter how bad
Consider this not a boast, As it is in no way a toast: When Melbourne has been my host, Practically, every single day has been an incorrigible roast; Taking the form of a crucible of endurance at times, And a game of forbearance during others, It has perpetually been a tribulation of the highest order;
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