There's no true freedom
as long as there's still the acquiring :
it's realised only when one
has given  himself to the relinquishing

I choose ignorance
over pretence

There are only
  three types of people:

  those who love life
  those who hate life
  and those who are indifferent

I've been too used
to waiting
it has defined
my life
yet it still remains
in my thinking-
it is a virtue
most worthwhile

for immediate
or quick satisfaction
is not my pick-
it only does belong
to the spoilt child

there's the sweet
looking forward
to a brighter dawn
with the promise
grace will adorn:

I'll hold on
to the waiting
even if
I've to walk
the longest mile

In my sorrow
I long for the days
of my childhood
where peace and grace
crowned my every moment
alas!  To such I can't return!

Adulthood is bane
and almost a prison
with its angst and grind
which can't be defined
even by those
with the sharpest mind-
reason is blind
where's ever the gain?

In my tears
lonely and silent
for those joyful days
I desolately yearn
knowing
they will never return

Everyone wants
to be heard
but their own voices
they drown
and forget-

to themselves
strangers
they have become-
in a barren desert
they are lost
and tossed
totally desolate

with their life-story
unread and unrecorded

People can't tell
what's more or less
nor what's worst
or best

so they compare
with others
and after a lifetime
never know any rest