Nothing to me now looks the same
Or may be because I don't know the game
The game that all of us play
By making castles in the clay
That never ever my dear survive
And this is what is known as life
The life where I never see
Anything from painful realities free
Realities like the measureless thorns
That in our lives are born
With the birth of this life's game
That usually ends on a painful blame.
Seema Chowdhury
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/painful-blame/
