They did this to you, for just one good thing.
If my fantasies can’t be true, then they can’t be crumpled by you either. They are what they are and they grace me with their existence.
Your ashes will be the vague evidence of your existence.
When you’ll try to be different from the crowd, the crowd will prove you a lunatic patient…
A poem dedicated to all the wise souls who have always inspired me. The sun’s light may dwindle someday but your won’t, I know. HAPPY TEACHERS’ DAY
All paintings I’ve seen have had my fingerprints. Some swallowed it and some called it the art.