Of Numbered Days

Of days that are merely numbered,

Numbers – that define precision and accuracy;

With obnoxious influences, I fancy

What the earth would really be!

An apathetic answer, is not what I seek;

Maybe your response is perhaps too weak!

I rather stravaig, to find it on my own;

I presume dependence is long blown.

Of practicalities and baseless constraints defining lives,

With trust, belief, feelings, emotions running hollow;

It seems uncomfortable to even say a simple, “Hello!”

Since when did things get this awry, I really don’t know!

Have you ever been yourself, and yet surprised people?

Well, I have! It seems humans being humane is not accepted.

Maybe you shed what makes you human, is what’s expected!

Bizarre isn’t it? I know, it baffles me as well …

Perhaps the world today is drowned in sheer disaster,

Yet I reiterate, “What’s worse: To live as a monster,

Or to die as a good man?”

Well I’m still juggling with that, my dear stan!

It’s funny how our stories don’t even last a day,

With emojis dominating, we’ve absolutely nothing to say!

What we pray for is love, but what we do is play;

We hiding behind filters, trying best to look okay.

Looking for right ones, in all the wrong places;

Running - trying to get there, despite open shoe-laces!

You, maybe I don’t recognize you, but I do know you;

And I wish you to please take care and stay well!