Musical chairs
Has music for the chairs,
And the ears.
No music for the heart,
Nor for the soul.
As I go round and round,
In search of a chair,
Keeping my ears cocked
For the music to start,
And to stop,
And people and chairs
Get flung away
As extracts,
In a centrifugal machine.
I reach the top of the pyramid.
Meanwhile the droning music
Has stopped,
Forever,
My heart and soul
Has been bruised,
Forever.
4 comments:
At my age, almost at the end of my journey, I also feel like one of those chairs being flung away when the music 🎶 is paused and restarted.
I have no control over my fate at that stage
Fantastic..
Nicely penned Ashish... But you still have many more chairs to be flung around as yet.
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