It is said to be my life,
Free to color and enjoy,
As I cherish.
Is it true?
It is all fictitious, meaningless,
As all are flawed.
Miles away from truth.
It is only an illusion.
And beyond the grip of time and place.
Good to delight a beguiling child,
With a kite,
But do not know to fly.
Life is like a balloon,
Hallow and empty,
Ready to burst and deceive.
And we are only a puppet
In the hands of cruel fate,
Who enjoys this joke?
From:
DR. Yogesh SHARMA
Dr. Yogesh Sharma
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/life-725/
