BY RUDRAKSH MISHRA

I was furious one day

was damn curious that day

Life seemed hilarious that day

Everyone was suspicious that day

That day was all black

my problems were all back

wish I could pack them in a sack

wish I could send them back

In past there was a boy

He was full of joy,

but was used like a toy

wish I could have joy like the boy.

One day, he was standing all alone

that day, he realized he fought all alone.

He was in pain and was crying

everything was in vain, rain covering his tears.

He realized what happiness is

he found it’s just mere piece of crappiness.

So childish to search for happiness

in this dark world of selfishness.

Happiness is not what we get,

the conditions aren’t always met

is this a permanent fault

or it’s just a mental hault.