Smokes
It’s all an illusion, all misery unsolved.
Just thick silver fumes turn slim towards d sky.
We think we are morally fit. But its all a phase.
Just thick as a fresh smoke
Then we wonder round as white wisp of ash ghost.
Today I dance, tomorrow am puffed out .
It’s a smoke the life we live.
You think you are famous, wait till you die.
As the smoke is at the beginning, so we are at birth.
Fading away at death till it’s just clear skies.
Wow what a smoke..
