Saturday, January 17, 2015


The years have passed, his smile has died
And he’s nursing a void in his heart
When he ventures out to get a drink
They tell him to make a new start
So he sips his ale, plays with words
And leaves the party just when it’s fun
Then goes home and drinks some more
Till he remembers nothing and no one.

There’s a world where the preachers don’t reside
Where nothing comes attached
He has a home in that cold little dome
He’s Distant. Detached.

The evangelists of Happy keep shaking him off
Some others feel cheated and spurned
But through it all, he’s like a wall
Quite consistently unconcerned
Over the last few years, he’s gotten worse
And today, his gut is splitting with pain
He wants to cry, to laugh and speak up
But all he does is pull the chain

In a world where stories make us all
He’ll always be that mystery mismatched
And theories may fly, but no one will cry
He’s Distant. Detached.

1 comment:

Abdul Muttalib said...

Nice One... Loved it...