The Voice Over The Years.

voice breakA revival of the past

the way I sang  once

recollected fast

several decades hence

the voice in a mellifluous swing

reached the  notations high

came down to the base as a spring

now it strains to  go up in the fly

remains stuck between the wings

cracks and creaks almost

breaks and filters in a  post

yet I sing in a closed space

afraid of being teased in the open

the music in me finds its place

as I sing in  the privacy chosen.


Weird And Stale

My heart sank

I felt tired

It is the countenance.

To camouflage

I put up a smile

vain and empty.

To associate  myself

I talk few words

relevant or irrelevant.

To pass the time

I sit with a pleasant face

all is weird  and stale.weird and stale