The knock on my door
is absent,
Slipper's noise is
replaced by murmurs
of my mind,

A visitor who was
regular is missing,

It's been a month now
The room is the
only world
next to the person.
Now I have only this room,

Perhaps
those who leave us
are the ones
who heap promises,


Suffering is common theme
in each event,
Tears are limited like laughs,
Someone is laughing on my behalf,
I may laugh someday
Only to cry again,

But
the repetitions are scary,
not always,
if we learn and hone our
skill to manipulate
the manipulator.

I am not wise
And who is wise?
The wisest in this world begged
for the presence of
their significant others.