I spend the nights staring at the ceiling What really is this feeling I am right there and yet not Thinking of all the things I have achieved And yet the feeling of self worth is far from being perceived The list of blessings is really a lot And yet somehow it falls short Already …
Sitting by the window sill with a cigarette in hand, Hiding from everybody who I really am. The mask is imbibed so deep, That I have forgotten how reality feels. The scarring mark is a little too surreal, The piece of trauma is nothing ferial. Not so happy with the journey so far, Waiting for …
It's nothing much, Just a feeble try to convey how deeply I felt, Words that so easily get my heart to melt, If only there was a way to put it all away, And start afresh the next day. I know you are trying to relate, And that's the reason I put my heart on …
You used to fill the void in my heart Left you more spoken than not Like a beer bottle that is rattled I knew the tip off would leave them startled What happened to you, what changed? Wish I could tell you the facade left me maimed Lying under the pile unexpressed Like a bullet …
Bombay Ficus 