Poetry

Mohit Sharma


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12 january 2012

am I alive...?

On a confused morning, I woke up in a hurry,
Maybe it was a hangover of that nightmare that sets me on a flurry.
I saw myself struggling for a laugh or even for a smile,
My artificial happiness is due to materialism that was a result of an undue debt pile.   
 
I saw myself struggling to lend my care to a needy.
I doubt whether am I slowly turning to be an enduring greedy.
Never forgot to check my virtual social status and conversation,
Something fake exists for sure, which on me is gaining the domination. 
 
In that blind race, I am nothing but a baffled desperate mind
Don’t know what to achieve still walking in a direction undefined.
Couldn’t recollect the last time when I saw those blinking stars in the sky.
Those days of childhood were good, when I could set my imagination to fly.
 
I am sharing my innermost appalling, unconditionally and maybe free,
Don’t have enough time to share, the moments of my unforeseen glee.
Being miser as an appreciator, I am blindly enjoying my role as a critic,
Not able to listen to that true inner voice, as something went wrong with my psyche acoustic.
 
Turning numb towards the feeling of love so as with its perusal,
It’s even becoming bulky for me to differentiate amid the fake and real.
Afraid of loosing my phony identity within that virtual world of mine,
Not able to justify my existence yet living with a hope for my darker side to shine.
 
My happiness is crying for being lost upon, even in the shape of small packets.
Don’t know for what I am waiting to be cherished, thus to break my life’s claustrophobic brackets.
My body is working fine and so is my brain,
Yet feeling frozen and suffering from an unidentified pain.
 
I am slowly breaking the hangover to let myself overcome that strife, 
It was not a nightmare but a harsh reflectance of my own day to day life.
I am carrying myself knowingly to nowhere with a hope to get thrive,   
Lost myself again somewhere, leaving an unrequited question that “Am I alive…?” 






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