Scribbling down my anonymous anticipations…
A moonless sky, lit up with aching hopes
The alleys of my hopeless heart…a step or two
Would it take to cross the limitless boundaries…
But here I wake up before another midnight could pass,
Into a world where they want me to act like them.
Tomorrow I might just go out for a walk,
Aimless but the streets of remembrance…
Endless but the streets of remembrance…
I wake up from the sleeplessness, that’s
Hugging me as if I am her lost child…
Trust me! Her womb is not the one I remember.
My origin was rather more enthusiastic,
A dancer’s daughter a dancer would be,
They said. The womb I remember was
At-least, not this claustrophobic.
Alas! Do I look like me these days???
Superfluous words won’t make poetry, so the
Simple ones I choose….but hey! I am no poet!
Neither do I intend to create one of me…I am just me!
Tucked in, trapped inside my own anonymous anticipations.