Poem 2

Wake up

 

Office to home,
home to office,
that all we are left for..
We sleep, not to dream,
but to wake up next morning.
We eat, not to feel the real taste,
but to fill our empty stomach.
We do makeup, although never felt the beauty of our natural body,
but to look good artificially.
We think, not for the betterment of ourselves,
but only for profit.

What are we doing?
Are we a well wisher for us?
or a robot whose commands are set to some restricted things.
Thats not living,
neither loving..
Its just surviving,
completing the tasks, we are meant for.
It seems suffocating..

Wake up..
I am trying to wake myself from all these,
As its hard to breathe.
love your sleep, no matter if its just of hours three.
love your dreams, no matter if it is just cakes cream.
love your taste, no matter what you ate.
love your skin, no matter if you are thin.
love to grow(internal beauty/soul), no matter if it is’t show(position/wealth).

All matters is just you,
as nobody put their foot in your shoe.
Its you, who would blame/appreciate,
neither its late nor early too.

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