A man is tiger he doesn’t cry
Who said tigers don’t cry?
Reality is a mist in my clouds
Mind’s eyes are in the circle of confusion.
In the backyard there is a crackle of thunder.
Eyes rolling like wheel in the hands of gorilla
I am just like a blind-woman who is looking for a needle
And the dove that lost its lover
I am a headless chicken.
Expectant of the best and what I glimpse is the worse
My eyes sought to see the daylight but I see the moonlight
It was so unambiguous for me to see and now there is a snow and mist
It’s not raining i am drowning in our own tea