Sick Days!

Should I count my sick days
Or, should I count my birthdays
Either way, I have lost the count.
Good things do they come
But, did I ever asked my share
I know, I have lost the trail.

Never mind.
We have to respect the man,
The man who knows filth and dirt
But, do I have anything to do with him?

Let’s see again:
The distrust that overlook the faith
And the wish that plays evident with the sin;
Are they a worthy couple?

May be!

In fact,
My body is a clay vase,
My soul is sinner’s paradise
And my heart is placed little around the bend
A corner, where love digs faith!

This clay vase, often I paint dreams
But the soul sucks the heart
And the pastel sinner counts the sick days!