© Niranjan Noel Joseph

Β© Niranjan Noel Joseph
“This is how moths speak to each other. They tell their love across the fields by scent. There is no mouth, the wrong words are impossible, either a mate is there or she is not, and if so the pair will find each other in the dark.” ~ Barbara Kingsolver, Prodigal Summer

Friday, July 30, 2010

Quarter life crisis

I'm sick of life... I'm sick of death.
I'm sick of sickness... I'm sick of health.
I'm sick of day... I'm sick of night.
I'm sick of dark... I'm sick of bright.
I'm sick of love... I'm sick of hate.
I'm sick of destiny... I'm sick of fate.
I'm sick of work... I'm sick of play.
I'm sick of April... I'm sick of May.
I'm sick of enemies... I'm sick of friends.
I'm sick of old beginnings and new ends.
I'm sick of uppers... I'm sick of downers.
I'm sick of the fckin' in-betweeners!
I'm sick of despair... I'm sick of compassion.
I'm sick of the latest fckin' fashion.
I'm sick of satisfying... I'm sick of delighting .
I'm sick of rhyming... I'm sick of writing...................


THE END

~Niranjan Joseph~

No comments: