A song of mad men, many bad men
Sung to sad men, to remind or warn
That trusting can be dangerous to you
Because, sometimes, Goliath gets shorn.
We have to pay attention to our heroes
If they are zeroes we can be misled
Thinking they were something good
With nothing good inside their heads.

It’s amazing how many villains exist
And are powerless to resist being bad;
Who’ll rob  you and cheat you, and love
To really enjoy the pain you have had.
They roam like packs of wolves prowl
And will tear you up if they only could.
So, it’s good to remain ever vigilant
And not be the baby lost in the wood.

They’ve taken over our government
Despite what the mad men have said
And with their total lack of sentiment
It’s like the night of the living dead.
The people who could stop it did not.
It happened quick, while we were asleep
Now we’re stuck with what they’ve brought
We fallen  from the top of the moral heap.

So this is a sad song, of what once was
And what it seems it’s soon to become.
Many citizens were rebels without a cause
And most of those were terminally dumb.
They believed change would be good
When we were doing especially well
Now those deluded heads of solid wood
Have created for us all a scary kind of hell.

He murdered her soul
Yet he is applauded by all,
Because he was born in the spotlight
And she belongs in the shadow.

Dreams. Aspirations.
Reality through the blurred visions
In search of
fading destination
Fallouts. Selfdoubts.
High on bad decisions
Want to scream out loud
Wanna touch the clouds
but stuck in a shell
Paranoid as hell
Craving miracles to happen
In more than many ways
Sleepless nights, dreadful days
Constant flow of thoughts
running through veins of brain
Past to regret about
Present to curse upon
Future to dwell on
And all that we need is an escape
Not to quit
but to be quite
To feel the peace
To use our elite wits
Through which art can speak
& words can live
To concentrate
without caring about the consequence
Hit the right note
& make the most of it
with what you got
This life ain't free of cost.

It's summertime
Once again,
Along with the kids
In my hometown

A nature trek and long drives
Paying visit to relatives
Reminiscing time spent with cousins
The golden olden times

Recalling nicknames
Cracking up on the same
Spilling each other's secrets to the children  
Earnestly, they listen to our childhood stories,
mouth agape  

Games we played
The same ,lost to time
Yet ,
As always, keeping the memories and relations alive

it's a wanting that haunts me
nothing will do, it takes me back over
decades, and to last month, but
others float in that jar of ether

men, boys, all of them warm
like pearls on a perfect necklace
touching them against my throat
reminds me of one thousand

wantings