Yesterday was better.

He looked at the moon.     

As if it spoke,  

Silently of his emptiness.
He smiled.

And sighed.

The signals on the street,
Red yellow and green, 
All were the same.
He lost the sight of right or wrong.

 He was numb. 
And this wasn't the first time.
His soul toppled and turned,
In his body a hundred times.

A hundred times,
He felt incomplete.
Like his story has ended.
But he is alive.

He drove on an endless road. 
Off to a journey unknown.
He loved his state.
He loved being lost.

And He loved saying,
This over and over again,
Yesterday was better, 
When he was in love. 
In his thoughts,
He lived there, 

Forever.

Messages

She looks at those                                                  Exhibition of messages,
One better than the other.
Carefully seeded,
Intertwined & unique.
A confused puzzle of,
Identifying the real.

Living on the periphery
Of people and emotions.
Who could have,
Answered, expressed or understood?
And who could have...
Known.

 

Make belief the truth,
And all that it brings...
Temporary & transactional
Short lived feelings.

Those messages,
At display,
Qualify as gems
Of felt impact,
From people of another time,
From another day,
With perishing memories.



Just for that moment,     

That second,
May be it was
Magical.
Or may be
It never was!                                 

She looks at those,                                               
Messages again.
The lasting ones,
Were perhaps never written.
For the lasting ones,
Perhaps can never be.