Thursday, 24 March 2011

One of those poems

I find happiness in small things,
In my pen, my diary, in a chocolate
Whose taste I don't love.

Happiness comes to me in the form of
Packed bus rides, slow trams, friends,
My parker pen, two-day fest, a black jeans
And my red converses.

Little! But I find them everywhere,
They keep me alive; My medicine,
For all purposes, like sleep.
I desire them the most.

Desire a blackberry but refuse to part ways
With my present.
Desire a MaC but am satisfied with
Having none.
Peace is so much beautiful
Like lying alone on a green lawn
Dreaming, desiring,
Eyes shut and feeling the air
With the blanket of the light blue sky.

Happiness I find in small things,
Like giving away and not wanting back.