where do i belong <br />i seem to ask myself <br />more often than ever <br />as i float on the surface <br />of a yet to be titled world <br /> <br />i attempt to rise <br />above the familiar and not so familiar <br />world of your perennial touch <br />thinly poised on the cycle of birth and death <br />but only end up as an insubstantial shadow <br />on the fading life line <br />at the level crossing <br />as thousand hands <br />prepare to undress me <br />throwing up the ugliness <br />of the cactus hidden within <br />between the covers of <br />this dispassionate musings <br />that in general parlance <br />passes off as life <br /> <br />what is there to write poetry on <br />or paint a colourful picture <br />on this drab canvass <br />of cluttering emotions <br />of laughter and tears <br />that accommodates everybody's <br />biography or autobiography?<br /><br />indira babbellapati<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-poem-that-peeked-within/
