You and me were friends before
Everything you did I tolerated
In me the song of trust for you serenaded.
I am sorry for hurting you till the core
But what did you do?
You left me and broke my trust,
Left me and our friendship to rust.
Those were great times that we had spent
But whatever starts has to have an end.
I thought that you were a bit irritated
So the hope of peace inside me waited.
But you turned your face and changed your colours
Went and gave me away to others.
The darkness about you is much more than I thought
Or wait! Was it me with whom you exactly fought?
After a few days I expected you to be as before
But now, to me you are the biggest whore.
You took people’s support to maintain your position
But this is only because I didn’t take action.
Don’t think that I’ll still be waiting for you
Because people like you for me are nothing new.
And please remember that if I ignore you
Doesn’t mean that I’m scared of you.
Because if I start speaking
For you voice you’ll keep begging.
Cents crawled over Baga
The fourteenth from right
First from me
White tarpaulin flew over
Dispair of the vend’s derm
Adorning the last few cookies
Wind chimes tickled an anvil
Bucks for the Fortune Cookie
Honey brown teint glued my glasses
Bare eyes longed to rest
Lips to feel the first kiss
The rough skin held my hands
Lips inches apart
Ouch! That hurts!
Tongue blood bathed
And me noticed its opening
Unchaste! Winking through the hoods!
Its demonic beam savouring it all
Akin the day sweet chirps tooled it
Tearing its hem with the peak
I stumbled, fings escaped
The cookie embraced the sea
Glasses reflected the dirty dance
Gusts sanding my tearfeds
Brought in a thump
Across the left blush
The silver foil read
NOT YOUR STORY.
O’ the houseflies in my dine
Craving noodles like a vine
Licking through my milk-bowl line
Once you taste that’s no more mine.
That’s no fine!
O’ the mosquito in my bed
I’ve no All Out, no mosquito shed
Nothing such to lay you dead
But you got be malaria-fed!
That’s so dread!
O’ the cockroach in my bathroom
I never used Odonil or a broom
To get your honour face its doom
But you chased me out so soon
You get no boon.
O’ the wasp in my garden
Won’t spare you, you’re no burden
You’ve bitten me thrice in life
That stung like the butcher’s knife
Your buzz do not please my mind
For I know you’re hatred-bind
For which now, I’m no kind.
My inner beings by now abide
Embrace the power of insecticide