Hit him hard without mercy

Time has just now done

Issues gone under the sun

His hell has just begun


Impossible, no, please, alright

Four stages in every turn

Horrified, realized, pledged, distraught

Things left in his urn


Life, hope, love, laughter

Deprive, suffer, doubt, sorrow

One was said, the other done

Help he wants to come.


Warnings and hints were given a miss

Choosing a fiddler instead

Sat and watched his home being burnt

Playing the fiddle in his head


Then it happened, swift and fast

Flames engulfed himself,

Saved he was well and good

But his home was all but dead


Now he wished he paid more heed

Had a timeturner instead

Of his life and his possessions

He’s just a miserable wreak



 PS: Its not Autobiographical…just that I seem to be able to write only melancholic poems 😛


About dairyman

A cat in a man's body who loves dogs. View all posts by dairyman

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