I know, no sorrow
can sit in your
mirthful heart.
No dirt governs
you, even in dream.
If there's any
sentiment wrapping
yourself, that's
feigned, your
altar ego,
subconscious mind,
play the game,
to rob your fame.
In one fine morning,
when the sun will
come out breaking
the net of cloud,
get out of your
feigned skin.
There, I'll be
waiting to paint
a kiss on
your forehead
with love!
Neela Nath
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/get-out-of-your-feigned-skin/
