wisdome

Now I should start,
rubbing the surfaces ,
of my mind,
to make them clean,
dust free and stain free;
till my palms abrade,
and the coatings erode,
glossiness fade,
scratches are made ,
with ugliness laid.
Even when you call me mad,
I should keep all hurts allayed,
as I still belong to that herd,
who get punished and punched,
just for being,
immaculate and virtuous..
Now I should start,
erasing the portraits in mounts,
I painted through the flow of time,
and kept as priceless,
and leave all the frames empty,
to decorate all over these walls,
undusted,
to tell you the stories,
of deceptions and trickery,
of traitors who passed across my doorsteps,
leaving their grinning faces behind,
as images of forgery..
Now I should learn,
not to know them,
when they move towards me,
with lopesided smiles,
while trying to return their gestures promptly,
not to look into their eyes,
to find small snakes of lies,
writhing underneathe,
those innocent looking trecherous dark seas
.
Now I should try,
not to accept,
sugar coated poisonous promises,
which they offer,
with utmost generosity,
to kill me,
slowly and incompletely.
Now I should try to be wiser,
and learn faster than them,
when they teach me how to pull strings,
to make the puppets dance,
to their tricky tunes and rhythms...