Market

Unless I have an illusion, the world doesn't believe what had happened.
That when happened seems unremarkable in my side then.
I have sweats but I have lost them once, twice and thrice in the race of fame.
To no cuts have cut my blind day where there's drizzle through shining rain.
All shore do stand like pumpkin , my older time had prospous leddings.
Wrapped in yellow tiffins with shirly cartoons with rounded corners and smiling waves.
Unpaured one touch of smile, only one, just one behind that mapping stage.

Living me Y.K a folded hands pray,
On steps on doors that looked my way.

Name maniac unique it stand,
Prose eyes that mate apprend.

Soured limbs icy blue bloods,
Athletes firing browny muds.

Lend tears and borrow waters,
No rains furnish the wood cutters.

Oh dearie pleasant surprise to hold,
Till time telling the timings bold.

Rush through mere deserts away,
Mere footsteps that lend presence stay.

Markets lapping proud and play,
Milky stuff shutting straight and stray.