I don't know how to love
without wanting more.

I don't know how to swim
when there is no shore.

I don't know if there's an after
when the present is sculpted from before.

I won't know love
if love is nothing but lore.

I am a garb.
An outfit.

I am now in season.
And in trend.
I am well loved.
Well received.

But fads pass...
What used to be the rage
will eventually fade.

What used to be sought after
will inadvertently be shelved.
And forgotten.

So wear me now.
Fill me full.
As you grow,
my sleeves would shorten.
And seams would burst.

Wear me now.
For I am your garb.
And I still fit.

.

•point                                   
our fing-                                 
ers to the                                 
nearest a-                                 
vailable s-                                 
uckers• to                                 
take respo-                                 
nsibility  a-                                 
nd be  acco-                                 
untable....no                                 
one really bothers•we                  
do it so well unlike any other•al-
     most a skill that never gets duller•**** hits
the fan, we all look for someone to blame•it's a
hapless situation when we partake in such a ga-
  me•it's become a norm that simply never ends •
it's a nasty situation that makes enemies out of f-
riends•i look at myself and realise that i am no
   different•for i too, have my finger pointed si-
   lent•i too, have erred...warranting reproach
•milling over transgressions my words
dare not broach•sigh...why is it so
that such a habit we can never
sever•think no further...let's
just blame it on......................


human nature•

.

We were building a boat.
A sea-worthy vessel made for two.
A cosy little nest,
a shell of the promise for me and you.

We made it sturdy...
From keel to hull.
We sang to each other
to oust the lull.

We spoke of the adventures,
together we'd avidly chase.
We braced for the storms,
we'd most likely face.

As the last drop of sweat...
Fell freely to our feet,
the boat was done.
What were once planks, was then complete.

I climbed aboard
and hoisted up the sail.
You lingered for a bit...
Seemingly cautious that the boat might fail.

The craft quickly drifted out to sea...
When the wind, the sail did willingly welcome.
I cried out to you so you could hop on...
So with me you could come.

But you simply stood there...
With a gaze incredibly deadpan.
As the currents pulled me further,
I only then realised...
That I was never your plan.