I watch the day
As it moves
From dusk to dawn.
I watch the people passing by
With the reds, greens, blues and white.
And I try to weave in
But I fail.
I fail not because I dislike or dispin
But because
I couldn't prattle.
I couldn't talk and chat.
I was always the one
Still & cold
I was always the one
Brawling for words to come out
I was always the one
Anxious and shy
And I was always the one
Painted grey .
For grey is the one
That seldom shines
Amidst the vibrant hues of the world.
Thus paving way for the words to ink out
On the whites & the stripes.
And it covers all the time
From dusk to dawn.
And I write.
I write about the mundane life.
I write about the lanes I cross.
And I write to escape the humdrum existence.
I write the songs of the valley
And the lives of the tribe.
I write how the stream flows
And how the birds chirp along.
I write about the tears and hunger
That fights into the daily life.
I write about the hills and peaks
I write about the cloud and sleet.
And I write every word that screams my mind
And every sensation that wraps me around.
