i hear a voice that chimes from North

the one i lust for chimes from South

oblivious to all the bugels and shells

concocting my own puny world

i try to find myself in your songs,

in heaps of the photographs

you tirelessly clicked that day

Futile- call me if you may

imagine the fruits i can hold

make believe- so be it



  1. I doubt 😀 … But if the writer says so then it may just be time of, or moments of inspiration, for composition, the actual catch dating way back… 🙂


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