Tuesday, 12 March 2013


Things which you hear
Are not audible to me.
And the ones which I hear
Are imaginary to you.

That voice of yours
Is a noise to me.
And mine
Is always a yap for you.

I'm wrathful to the ones
who love me still!
And how??

Why do they love me?
And I feel envy
How can they pretend so well?
'Life's a drama' as one said.
'Life's a drama' as others act!

-Jo (Play)