Topsy-Turvy

When the dawn of gaiety emanates And sorrow seems to dissociate When hard work is finally culminated Distress seems to frown for revenge When the past is cast into oblivion And the present sews its shameless patches Its ugly head appears to pierce through the seam Breaking apart the lovely product of the present On the verge of touching the future A piece of the past falls Spattering and interrupting the present Preventing the midas touch of the future When trust appears and seems to console The present embraces it and clings on And when effort propels you to future, trust disappears When trust is neglected, present is devoid of future’s sight When distress bursts out laughing, trust blames present And present helplessly abnegates to trust again With the touch of future as its collateral But finally accepts trust’s betrayal as a wonderful plot