Thursday 10 March 2011


A matchstick in mouth,
Holding it by teeth,
The same old torn hat and,
The quest as I breathe.

Thought of a journey,
Till I find sea,
The sea where the geese are,
The place is for me.

She wanted to come with,
But you know by now,
Leaving a home means,
A field not to plough.

So I took myself,
With some tits and bits,
Will buy some happiness,
From someone who meets.

Devoid of any longings,
Anything to hold,
I must go to the sea,
Too firm and too bold.

Then a long voyage,
Would start to be lost,
Through the high icebergs,
And Snows and the frost.

Thought of that and then,
I struck by my heart,
Who will be warmth then,
She asked at the start.

Wondered by her question,
As I looked back,
Found me in the same home,
Like old books in rack.

Sitting in the couch,
Then I realise,
Wonderlust is not that I want,
To be that precise.

So I Stopped thinking,
About dreams absurd,
Thought of that person,
Who stopped me and barred.

Something within her,
Did all these to me,
Could not I set off,
My journey to sea.

1 comment:

  1. awesome....but who "barred" you from going to the sea????