Sunday Soliloquies
This begins with due apologies to N J Nanporia, the columnist. It wasn’t the intention to lift your column title… it just happened to fit in well.
In the smoke of cannabis induced haze
Whispers of ogres & imps of bygone age
Laughter echoes,
Fallen angels by the side
Of friends left behind…
And of memories washed ashore
A few tokes one too many
Broken blinds of my windows
Someone is peeping in now
Its just light…
Darkness seemed comforting
Of the many nights of insomnia
Some dreams are best seen awake
Stoned! But respite is none
Lines don’t rhyme… am I the one?
Who is crying?
Tears are just, wasted stains
Melancholy is a form of pastime
Nostalgia a derivative of self
