a bag with lot of desires
a bag with little less of facts
few stumbling steps wont discourage
the quest for the sunshine
a bag of hope
a bag filled with diversified dope
moments gone by are best left to rot
till they manure the future
discontent with present
regret the past
kisses and hugs can some times be donated without lust
time flies by and march(some thing departed) is still warm
profanity is an object of disdain
truth is an object of irrational thought
come with me lets walk..
lets walk till you wish to embrace the illusion i chase
visitors will be commuting
its not only blessing i am counting
few fly by few tend to stay
few scorches the time, few eases the pain
the little butterfly with rich coloured wings
is trapped in a jar and songs of freedom it sings
hope and faith will carve the mule tracks
a greenary awaits, beyond the bows and barracks
