November 10, 2018

My Beautiful Attic

Try hard to keep the door of my attic closed,
As there live the scariest memories; 
The raindrops create a crack,
The petrichor creeps in, 
The moonlight sneaks in, 
The wind of music is the key
To let the brute beauty out;
If my attic opens, my roof is wiped off.
I need no marijuana to get knocked off -
Very few joyous moments with loved ones
Are my intoxication!
Sensible me lacks emotion,
Fakes smile,
Works smart,
Never loses brain,
Too hard to get close;
It is really good to be sensible me
And I choose to be so, most of the time!
A very few people - may be a half-a-dozen
Break my sensible self
Bring out my craziness and vulnerability
The moments I spent with them are real!
Sadly, none of them walked along longer,
Proving being alone is inevitable.
Yet the limited time I spent
Is kept safe in my attic.
I keep the curious and stupid child in me
Locked along with them -
By shutting all the possible prompts
Of nature and totems connected to them,
By Numbing myself in the virtual stupidity
Of unnecessary plots of movies and series;
Vulnerability vanishes,
Silence grows...


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