The phone rings continuously
know not from when really
goes on without a break
not enough to shake
I sit there like a stone
as if without a bone
Why did I not answer?
I am not very sure
This happens not once
takes place with a bounce
Why do I act so quixotic?
Could I be a mystic?
I do dream a lot
and mostly get caught
I live in a reverie of my own
nothing to do with mysticism in tone.
Categories
Meenas Poems 