i shall dance
inside this room
in my
aloofness. i shall
whistle a song
and then
stomp my feet on
the tiled floors
by then i shall
hear my own music
dancing to my
own kind of beat
to my own
feet.
you see at this
age of independence
where everyone
is expected to just
do his own thing
and be responsible
one must learn
the technique of
creating a world
your world,
my world.
and there is no
difference
actually: it is all
fake and
temporary.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem