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Life?

Life's duties definitely bind one with their body.....and am not an exception!
In this wide bivouac, we have so
many things to see, admire, so many people to befriend and so much to experience....well, am in one of d compartments of this most admirable train of life sticking to my seat....and wondering whats going to happen next!
Almost 20 years of our life is used to prepare about facing the next 40 years......and the next 20 years are wasted on the hunt for wealth and luxury.....and the last 20 years of our lives are spent mostly alone...in pursuit of a suitable company! And the last 10 years(if we are lucky enough) are spent in ailments!!! Of course, we need to be positively- faceted about life.....but we never know our purpose on Earth and we while away pretty much time in rejoicing and laughing at for some bizarre and petty humor! Living on this earth, we always go brooding over the dead past and bury ourselves over our uncertain future but never even make a glimpse about our living present which is happy and happening! Well, there are loads to think on life......do remember that am sitting right in the next compartment to yours......!!!!!

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To write is to dwell

FEBRUARY 15th, 2012





















What writing means to me...

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I'm too shallow to write a verse

I'm too shallow to write a verse To wrap around the twists and turns To dwell unto my own, I do Living somebody else's life or my own? Shrouded under piles of thought, I scribble, thinking only of the applause.
I'm too shallow to write a verse or two To make ends meet, I'm too cuckoo. I'm not the classic, scratching blue wooing 'em, tearing 'em apart  with every word.
I'm not the one who rhymes nor the one with notes for those lyrics. I'm the one who scribbles blotching blue on all my troubles, roiling over moments back and forth, trying to string those stray words, into at least a doggerel. See, I don't make sense.  I told you, I'm too shallow to pen that sonnet, that ballad, that haiku, that refrain, that ode.
I'm forcing it out all that gibberish snowballed  unto mine, to chime and rhyme  but nevertheless I realise in time, I'm to shallow to be read over cheese and wine.