My Room Wall Poem by Aman Dheer

My room wall, is subjected to sheets of paint
Which destroys its outer skin and facial muscles,

He is devoid of the fact that he is going to be hammered up
By nails I broke using my little feet fingers and toes and a hint of burnt sea conch.

I twist my ankle and the colour fades from red to blue,
I thus peek through a window fitted in it and I sigh!
a dramatist redraws the lines of romance on the screen set,

He hinders my view of his intentionally done tricks.
My wall just sits there, even though summer passes by,
His hide is pretty tough but his heart is soft like cotton.

Which can later on be used to support my overhead "tension" wire.
I watch him every day with the showcasing of cuts on his left half,
I never knew he was going to be too showy and arrogant.

Meanwhile, I take a sip out of my cup and I spill it on the wall
He still stares, thus setting his eyes to droop- shut down.