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Efflorescence festers with abysmal bazaar.
Gnawing, kindling at the heathen within.
Ignoramus like rotted zucchini.
Qualm emotions wait in x-section.
Calabashing our inner feelings,
breaking away from society’s demure,
like Nightingale’s song, creativity flows in legato.
Manifesto of trapped onus to world bursts out.
Jocular words come, hindered by mind’s panacea.
Ragamuffined ideas pave the way,
the saliva to world happiness.
A testament to soul’s umbilical cord.
Vice-versed width yearns for attachment.





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