I will not show my wounds
As you have poo pooed them not just once!
My life too extracts a price.
And I alone shall pay it.
A heap of pain may squeeze me for long
But I will never let you know them
For you are much disinterested
In all those mutterings...

I see nothing hitting my daily bread
But it turns bitter in taste
Or a newer fever grips my palate!
Am I drawing the conflicts of a season
And setting the mind up on a mound
Of scarce greenery and much of brown stones?
A half naked moon may wipe out my tears.
But she is half naked, you see!

Time has ever ruthlessly caused discomfort
And freedom of the mind is an Utopia.
I too wish for a soul singing in a withering tone
Till the delusion of eternity fades out.
The departing stars are yellow and far
I see my boyhood youthful pride dying with them.
Your frowns and cold looks have been
A silencer for my lost spring, I swear.

Someone was knocking at the door I thought
But it was the naughty wind in a wrong gesture!
The footsteps heard have stopped for ever
And the desertion looks imminent
But I will not show my wounds
As you have termed them as the scars of unknown fears.
My mind dives into a pool
In the abyss of which my sleep is asleep.

The heart with contents of sorrow may re-beat
And it may fill up the nothingness with a few sighs
I perceive another spring should have been there
For my other seasons have been disguised very often!
In the orchard of my yesterdays.
I want to chase a butterfly in mad flutter
Along the corridors of the life left over
Shall I walk with my half naked moon otherwise?

M.D Dinesh Nair

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/what-shall-i-do-6/