How much your life depends on it,
Early it might sound, but I am really sick…
True it is, as the zeal inside is dependent on it,
Everything you see is about your own world,
As others hold the key to your words..
Shit some time it is,
Couldn’t tell how much you are really pissed..
It’s a bird with which you wanna fly,
They have wings, but you have sold your brain to that pie.
Now who do you have with your broken heart?
Telling every one the story as if it’s a piece of art...
Experiences are always heard,
Not boasted with a piece of curd..
It’s the best I have had each day,
And I loved you that day, to every time today….
Hope I miss you each day,
As it adds to the faith, that I have god with me everyday..
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