Penning my pain down
The dozen feet of blank pages
Here with the smudged ink
broken dream and crying clown faces.
I seek for love
and love ditches
I am now a torn jeans
with thousand stitches.
I am a drag queen
the untamed lavender
I am the jolted man
The poised scavenger.
I am under toned underdog
who is low with barks
I am the kid all jolly
chirping with larks.
I tend to be down
In the thousand dreams town
I inherit the habit
of ******* **** clowns.
I was born out of this city
live life in pity
Now the only place for me is my hometown.

Oh...  Here you are, alas.
I was in this misinterpretation,
that somewhat your arrival at this house of past, might haunt you.
And so your arrival was nothing more than a myth to me.
But no, you have proved me wrong like you always did.
Did you notice the wall, I knew you had a fascination for the limbo, draped with the designs of floral, more of pink and less of the blue I guess??
See, I told ya, I knew ya,
But you never removed the blindfold of cheat and latched onto his charms.
He surely was the bagpiper of your heart.
Speaking of the bagpiper how is he??
Your love...
Is he still having his floral print shirt and blue coat on, the day you left with him?
He is way more good looking than me
Tall as his righteousness, tanned as the king, mustache rounded up to the nexus,  Aryan featurette to the peak, and money spoke more than he himself.
God,  I knew your love... the song your heart played.
My heart did play some music but mostly it was the song of remembrance.
Was I even half of what he is??
I don't know...  But I did lose the only woman that I thought I had gripped.
And yes you have proved me wrong as you have always done.
I was hardly a man like him, and I knew for myself that I would hardly keep you the way, he might.
But that said my love for you, my dearest ex-wife, would not die.
Even though, while you read this, and I might be sleeping in my tomb,
You will hear the presence of my voice in this room.
Yes, the room,  where you and I were about to share a bed.
That might not change,  I told the painter to keep it as it is,  
Sometimes fondling with your scar might set you to feel right.
Oh, by the way,  you told me to frame the windowpane wood,  and so I did.
It was hard to tell my niece that you left...
She really loved you and felt it when she called you chotoma..
I feel bad for him.
I know that ma is no more on talking terms with you...  She will be fine as the day passes by...  You know she lost a son and my brother is all she has now...
Just give her some time.
My letter is at its finest,  it's just the one thing I had to say..  If any day you think of coming to my tomb,  please bring a hibiscus in my name.

Here is the man,
Who saw the world.
Felt it change,
From this to that.
Saw a man,
Change his hat.
Seen his life,
On a tight rope dance.
Seen people,
change their color.
Have seen flowers,
Blossom in December.
Seen the world,
Met some people,
Heard the story,
And aged like mapple.
He knows it all,
And he is glad,
He is seen the journey,
From being a son to dad.

I long for the long road
The road that leads home,
The roads that leads to my lane,
The lane where I played cricket with my friend,
The lane that has history I kept,
The lane that holds memories for stories to tell,

I long for the long road,
The long road that leads to you,
The you I missed,
The you whom I shared my kiss,
The you who would go beyond bliss,
For I know the long road, my friend,
I craved for this.

I tried to play my guitar,
literally having *** with it.
My baby who moaned as her strings,
are the hairs I brush it with my fingers.
She moaned the tunes of death,
gently I heard her whispers in my ears.
I kissed it with my low voice,
to match my thoughts with my fears.
I tried to play my guitar,
Her lust is an awe.
She lets me forget the springs in summers,
She lets me forget the dawn.
My soul is her moaning,
that I don't want to get it lost.
That's why I tried to ****** my guitar,
AS I WOULD DO IT TO A BLONDE.

Love changed overnight
And he does'nt feel it now.
The boy who onced dreamed
Of ushering a kiss to
A girl with creamed lips,
Who danced in the rain
Reading lines that intertwines
With love is now smoking cigarettes
With his damped distilled lips.
As if love was what he never wanted
but trust me, this man who was once mad in love is now on the other end of the **** waiting to ******* the pain to a ******* he hired for the night to make it more likely a insomaniac one.
He who wanted his soul to be fixed,  
By the woman with whom he made tryst with, which is worthless to one tiring soul, who has given more than a heart to be torn like the wet paper boat, desolate in raindrops of tears,
Is now the guy who working for his rehabilitation.
He who forget that there is more than his heart which he never felt,
That there is a mother who is madly in love with a boy who she fed her breast to,
That there is a man who has done everything with empty torn pockets and half eaten bread for him to be a man who he wish to,
That there is a girl and a boy who he promised to protect for the etenity of time he had in this planet when he was a mere toddler.
For there is a friend who made it through with the times which were agonizingly painful to bear it with his cold heart.
And yet he forget that love that he seizes to blind is there to be seen if his eyes were never shut for eternity at all.

So subtle was the messenger's words,
I am no prophecy,
But an enclosed letter with words of ardent sadness.
I am no Human either,
I meant to say you the perspective.
I am no bird no animal,
not even the oxygen you breathe,
I am no woman you lust for,
in your lucid ******* dream.
I am just the truth that time has sent me to creed.
for you pray your god for your good ,
blame him for your curse.
The lies you see through,
the rumors like cheese lands that you spread.
I am no mesiah sent by your god.
I am the words that time has entitled me to breach