PSYCHOTIC THOUGHT

I'm sitting in the dark

With all the lights passing by---

I don't know if I'm lonely or shy,

Only I could feel that am happy to be alone.

The late October rains start to pour down

I see kids enjoying the droplets

But why do I feel that the rain brings in pain?

With the sky getting dark as my heart.

When I'm in need of Someone,

And I can even bleed for Her,

I only know hatred

And love only the colour Red!!

Out in the distance i see people

Enjoying the warmth of the sun,

But I sit faraway.... in solitude

Waiting for the chill of the night.

Then why do people call me psychotic

Even though I look as them?

Why do they run away from me

When I TRY to play with them?

Why do people not find me amiable

And never call me to talk?

Why do they never look at me

When I try call them for a walk?

No oracle can answer my questions

No priest can elucidate me properly----

Maybe I'll live a life that no one else did

Living with myself and talking to me alone!!

------- This was started one evening when I was sitting all alone in Vivekananda Park and the cars were going past with their lights on. This was when everybody was out shopping for the pujas (Durgapuja '07) (Ponchomi)