on smooth grass.
My senses slithers
on the green pastures.
i can only see ,
wat it feels to be
"the child of heaven".
i thought once,
May be one day ,
he opens the window.
and let me out ,
to touch what i see.
Till then i knew ,
the pastures will be green
.and will be beautiful,
watever will be seen.
Things have changed ,
no more im a child.
the child within me,
has lost his pride.
Entangled in the questionsof
"do or not to do"?
Scurrying fast,
through the pace of time.
questioning the truth,
my answers have lost rhyme.
i saw u then,
through hazy glass.
when i was eleven.
but no more
i can ,be the
"child of heaven".
untill i distinguish,
the fake from true.
Till the window is shut,
between me and you.
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