Poetry

How long have I waited precariously deciding?
Memory denied me! As if inadvertently pretending
This case, many roads divert in a yellow wood
Yet, me one traveler couldn’t travel all with one mood
Each adorned with these ostentatious colours and never derail
Shining like onyx, making the flippant ones many astray  
With no haste, hurry or fury, the presentable sepal face shall grow
Shelving disdain and ignominy, not wobbled in to and fro
With my eccentrics, my feelings I thought no one could ever deprive
From the vagabonds, what pleasure would they derive
As though speech-impaired, vis-à-vis the intractable feelings I couldn’t express
Amid men soul, many that wavers and give place, I felt depressed
A justified feelings, so glaring forced to enunciate, she imprecisely ignore
Speechless, a dash of hope, rather to my bed, maybe to death I could snore.