I didnt know what to name this, its presently named the XYZ. If you can think of a better name, and i think you can, please suggest it to me. Here's how it goes:
XYZ
My distorted reflection on these wet tiles,
when i wake up in the morning, with my lonely aisle,
is the only thing that hears me,
and laughs at me,
points at me,
turns down a part of the shaft in me,
burdens me, points at my disgrace,
and all this while, i couldn't hide my face,
as water evaporates on a sunny day,
my mind escapes my body in a funny way,
coz its found a solution outta this maze,
but cant progress, coz it cant see thru this haze.
nice .. rythminc :)
ReplyDelete:)
ReplyDeleteSlush pile?
ReplyDeletenaming the poem i mean?