The House of Thoughts

Too much of thoughts,

Painful it gets.

When they are on trampoline,

But caged with net so that

They may not fall, but wish if they.

When walking on the new black tar,

The greens were more green.

May be the misted contrasts,

Of the morning, or its the coming spring.

From where i don’t know

Saw my mailman looking for an address

But in middle of the field and

Waiting for may be me?

Oh my grandma is there too

Pretty distant from

But could see searching my number

In her old pocket diary, which was kept

Under the cloth which has a turmeric stain.

May be I should buy a bigger room for my brain

A 4 bedroom hall flat would solve the space cringes

The loud freight train reminded me of the mobile workplace

Which I carry along every where

As big it is as it carries ammunition for a nation

Keeps chugging even at nights like a train.

No wall is enough to hold my brain,

Like the noisy tadpoles in the summer rain.

I have seen people walking inside the corridors of my eyes,

The silhouette figures of passing from left to right.

A feminine touch could share my space

What if her grandma appears

In my bed?

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