Unmindful


Hey you
Do you even realise,
We are all standing in a queue
In front of death’s paradise.

Uncertain of our turn
Clueless of our waiting time,
We are all standing there
Somewhere in the line.

Waking up everyday
Since the day we were born,
Has put us in an illusion
That tomorrow is something we own.

We exhaust our waiting time
Planning tomorrow,
Seeking to live our life
In that golden morrow.

We devote today
All in worry,
But oh my dear
With you what else will bury?

Ungrateful of today
We forget to live by the stay,
Unmindful how this
Could be our last day.

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