Neath the sagacity
Of your downright fathom
I pilfer the imbecility...
Of your meticulous paragon.
I wonder how often you veil
The puerile camouflage of mirth..
To ally me through the
Boulevard of pensiveness.
Even though panging so..
Forever allots you as a forfeiter
And your fetes dramatically scandalous
In my guileless but mature heart..
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Many a times we get involved into puerile arguments, which leads to no where, but altercations.
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Tired of blaming fake people,
Blaming my memories to dwell.
Tired of people getting jealous,
In the crowd, I wanna flee unrecalled.
But then;
Buying myself a teddy,
Bringing alive that puerile, quite silly.
To not to blame but to stay away,
To not care and fly,
To not to be the innocent culprit again,
To not to sense damaged thoughts
And try to split myself because of them.
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इंसान पर छोड़ा है तो हैरान क्यों है
भगवान पर छोड़ा है तो परेशान क्यों है-
If you are still puerile at the age of 19...
Congratulations you are alive.-
To be fiddling seems shoddy and puerile because the untenuous pursuit of things is piddling and remains scraggy, insipid, and gimcracky. This snideness is neither indiscernible nor scalable. If you can transit it, it will not be a group of imperceptible actions; rather, it will note and transmit your perceptibility. Life is an intuitive and innovative state; there should not be nonplus perplexity or any daze exchanges because it is meager.
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