My highs and my lows brush over the canvas
engaging a rainbow...

Its not that I have to show you my fondness,
yet I must script a poem...

After you left, I noticed
my arms have been tied up...

Mehndi adorned her slim
fingers; chosen gems decked...

Clatter of trams on their tracks
disturbed puddles of depressed sky...

You are a brewing cup of coffee
on my breakfast table...

Six dreary years have expanded calluses
on his young fingers. He likes to feel...

My doting couplet, you resemble
a pair of hypodermic syringe...

Every night you pocket my sleep
as a thieving magpie...

I told a matchbox,
"You look so aged today.&quot...

[A tribute to the philosophy and idea behind...
You teach us in an open air classroom...

I wish to see a sharp edged knife penetrate
soft tissues around your shoulder, dear lady...