A Day Accompanying a Friend At Lecture

when i see young surgeons with careless hands dissecting poems in schools ruthless for marks, i smirked and declined from warning them,one day they will dissect their lives in poems. not all of them will write,some will pen lyrics and think greatly about it, O that emotion that is universally Sad. i know,their teachers too have a habit around poems; the class depended on them for limitations and murmur. with time,i knew they were same. same in sanity and madness, after the same teachings, the blind philosophy, the best glamourous road of no end, to be lost is possibility. the tempted man will follow the snake into the weeds, the realised will sit and mend; with some faith the broken becomes beauty.