Tuesday, October 1

and it still doesn't rhyme.

alone,
you're born,
alone,
you'll perish,
is it not the sign,
bhai, so that please resign,
from all the earthly goals,
and all the poles,

sometimes you do what you gotta do,
to make it rhyme.

the promises of forever,
end the day after or earlier,
is it not the hint,
that even you're not here, forever,
like all the promises,
and the people. 

sometimes you do what you gotta do,
and it still doesn't rhyme.  

is life supposed be all that?
rhyming with people, 
and adjusting with ideas,
sacrificing your own, in the process,

or is it something more,
that we will know, 
someday, that's not today. 

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