The cold has got me old

The cold has got me old

I was told.

Bound to my bed

Numb and dumb i lay.

But not for this way

I was mould.

Could a soul tell me

when this will end?

Lord! Help me, again to be whole.

And hold me to be bold.

The load has got me bend

I was told.

Bound to my world

Wreck and meek i wander.

But not for this way

I was made.

Could a soul tell me

when this will wane?

Lord! Help me, again to be whole.

And mend me to be lauded.

Lots Of Love

The laughter we'd is yet to die 

( An ode to my younger bro who passed away on 3rd Nov 1990)

Are you playing games with me?

One of a kind; hide and seek.

I can't find you where I does find you

Underneath the bed or inside the cupboard.

Oh! You lay there; calm and serene

Even with eyes closed you seem to smile

It's no time for sleep, my bro

Wake up, dearest friend.

Mom cries, Dad weeps, Bro down and sis shock

I did none I just wait for you

To open your eyes and smile

And play with me in the rains.

Shovel by shovel the earth covers you

Until we see you no more

The laughter we'd is yet to die

It's still around in the air.

Did you see me looking for you?

Inside-out; tense and lonesome

Often methinks what if I find you

With your eyes open and not asleep…

For all that's gone and is to come

Without you it ain't the same

Alas, only on a stone I find your name

The laughter we'd is yet to die….