There isn’t much to write…
Just a line or two would do…
Every sheet a plain page from a boring book…
Leave your bookmark in the 10th page, or the 100th…
It seems abrupt, long and dull…
And, when you turn the last page with anticipation…
You will be surprised that there seems to be no end
It resembles a mirage. On a canvas so large. They call it life. That illusion so rife. Never mind its name. They say it is all in a game. Seems so unbelievably eternal. But it is only the end that is real.
Me, me!!!
- Sepiamniac
- Madras, TAMIL NADU, India
- Not an outdoor person.. prefer to get buried beneath books, music and movies... has these strange philosophies about life that might puzzle you. At the same time, likes to live life. Loves simple people, especially those who veil their formidable knowledge behind humility (The poems here don't reflect my mind or anyone else's. Maybe, just a patch of what various people go through.)
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