El Pulpo Poem by Somendra Gaur

Trancing at the juncture of trance,
High on heartbreak;
Trying to be 'Sergio Busquets' of my own Barcelona (life)

I'm Jailed in my own mind,
And I've thrown the keys in the depth an uncertain sea of thoughts.

I've shot myself dead and strangled my neck,
So cruelly;
that my hue and cry look like a man smiling,
Often Laughing.

I've collected my emotions from the morgery,
Looking for a my 'Busquets' inside to lay them a shoulder.