Thursday, October 20, 2011

I lie

I lied, I lie... very often,
Sometimes I don’t even remember,
At times I don’t wish to,
I like my memories clean,
They may not be worth a dime,
But they are all I have,
And when I stare at the ceiling,
I curse the blank walls,
All the colours that I have filled in,
Count for no real feelings,
Just a jumble of paint,
That I try to pass as a painting.

4 comments:

Niya said...

I lied, I lie... very often,
but i wish i don't have to...

:-Dee said...

An honest post! :)

Someone is Special said...

Great post Ismita..

Someone is Special

Ismita Tandon Dhankher said...

@Niya...in retrospect one always wishes the same :)

@Dee, yeah, after a hundred lies an honest post :)

@SISpl...thanks again!

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