The year began,
I was longing for the love I felt I lacked
While mending a smile that was cracked
Even the butterfly wings that fluttered
In time, they too fell weak and withered
So I played along as a reclusive monk
With eyes burrowed in a dark furrow
I was torn between right and wrong
Peace in pieces split in past and morrow
But then a day, I finally faced my crime
Which pushed me back in my rhyme
So now no more what-ifs, ifs, and buts
Well, it is high time that I bust my butt
I gotta rewrite my story outta this rut
We all are aberrant from the ways of this world in one way or another | Sub-Editor at Smartprix.com
