The little things used to amuse me
the way rain kisses the earth,
the sun peeping through the clouds and
the waves nibbling the shore.
But with age things altered,
losing the ability to feel,
the things once I loved.
The days turned strange
beautiful sunsets and sunrise shifted to
dreadful weekdays and weekends.
The more I endured, the more I
lost the gift to cherish those moments.
Not sure when I lost all those or how
but all I’m certain is that ,
I’m a matchstick waiting for its quietus.
I’m actually in a doubt now not knowing what to write. The days are getting hectic and usually I reach room late and tired. Oft it make me wonder why we are doing all this things that we don’t like to do just to survive in this planet. People spent most of their life working to earn cash and forgets the meaning of life.Reality as itself is a paradox. World has enough to feed all yet people die of hunger. Of course world needs a structure but have we gone too far for forgetting the essence of life? People had become too much accustomed to the so called life that a change now is nearly impossible.