By Parnita Richhariya
Many a times a day
I seem to lose my way
Voice muffles, eyes water
Some tears contain, some totter
Along the path I created
And shut eyes to open satiated
Until the sight was another
Unequipped me in the weather
Where to go and when
Peddling strength to amend
Long time spent with my want
Left aside, it might haunt
Shrieks of choices through mind
Those made, those to unwind
Sun picked not the east
There it rises from the least
Flowers not buds of roses, greet
A wick burns for light, so neat
Waters in dark, in tides, glow
As is everything meant to flow
Many a times a day
Pain and pride to me say
Present bears a shadow none
Next to come has meanings some