Sandwiched between the lids, blurring the vision like mist
I occupy a precarious position
The struggle goes on, not to drop me down the line
What is it that makes me stand in the midst
Is it what you see or is it some notion
Get me out so that you don’t spawn me again
The moments tick and I gather more like drops of dew
But I put my weight upon the heart
It beats me why it does not beat
Does nt beat itself, but beats you
Pushing me back is a non starter in the heat
The zany mind meditates upon my cause
The façade lifts by and then
The hope of my arrest goes in vain
And there I go down my hilly chubby course
Defeat and jubilance shared in the twin den
The former for letting my drop out, the latter for effacing the pain.
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