The Insensitive Poet

Could I be more specific, like I was as a child. Could I be more sensitive, like I was even when pain was mild. Could I be more angry, like I was when life was bad. Could I be more relaxed, "you'll be fine" said Dad. Yeah! I grew up, but i am still the same. A bit more curious and a touch of lame. Tried to explain all I can, I am a child stuck inside a man. I cry, I play, I laugh, I annoy. I've got my problems, still I seem to enjoy. I am a child, for even a smile can make my day. I seek and find, all the stupid stuff I have to say. Life is tough, I am doing things fine, I am a child, that's the new design. ©Mohit Jha Image: ©Mohit Jha Disclaimer: All of the content are the original works of the author and its reproduction in any kind is highly discouraged. Ps: Happy Children's day

So For You Again there's an emptiness tonight, a hole that wasn't there before, Something feels missing deepdown inside, While I can't find you any more. This place beside me, feels the torn, And the nights, feel my cold, while for me they mourn, but, without you there ain't a hand to hold. So again I cry, but the place feels numb, So again I try, for you like a dumb, So again I deny, and in pain I succumb. To get to you, see! What I've become. The seat beside me again feels the same, When it knew, it once had our name. © Mohit Jha Image copyright: © Mohit Jha Disclaimer: all of the content above are the original works of the author and its reproduction in any form is highly discouraged.