THE MAN IS DIEING INSIDE
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The banana is getting spoilt, we assume it getting ripe.
I am feeling pains within me but the world keeps seeing my shallow smile.
If suicide hasn't been for a coward, I would have contemplated one.
If not for the fear of termites feasting on my flesh, death would have been a way out.
The sun and rain soaks deep into the earth and it makes the grave not similar to my bed.
How I wish the people could see the war going on in my heart, they would have rushed in for support.
If the X_ray could detect my mindsets and thought, the theater would have been my home.
We laugh, we dine, we run, we rush, but the innermost in of a man can not be detected even by his hearthrobs.
The heart of a man, the feelings of man, is only known to the man himself.
Quote: Sometimes but not often, less is more.
