Do they hurt?
Ever tried to tackle,
Didn’t your soul spurt?
Those erratic thoughts and cluttered vibes,
Why tied to your mind with tight knots?
When all they need is love wipes.
Was it lack of will
Or fear of getting unheard?
Nevertheless your inner voices shrill,
Like injured wingless bird.
Why sapiens, stories and sonnets,
Speak of life as gentle and amiable.
Don’t they allude to zestful tenets,
To unfetter oneself and rip off callous cable?