May 2020
She is so loud
Bright too
I wonder why she talks
If she can never love me
Like the moon
That comes out rarely
Maybe or maybe not
I am too old
To be the young fool
In love
Sell your hair
For a jar of moonbeam
We will never touch
The diamonds that the sky
Has in abundance
For the rich gals
And the grounds hides
Any promises
That I cannot keep
Like my ashes to sleep
Bright too
I wonder why she talks
If she can never love me
Like the moon
That comes out rarely
Maybe or maybe not
I am too old
To be the young fool
In love
Sell your hair
For a jar of moonbeam
We will never touch
The diamonds that the sky
Has in abundance
For the rich gals
And the grounds hides
Any promises
That I cannot keep
Like my ashes to sleep
The notes on this poem could be varied. But, be careful if your experience speaks more than your wisdom, because if you aren't silent, you will never learn.
(27/M/New Delhi, India)
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