Saturday, June 25, 2011

It is that time again

It is that time again
The time when my soul feels alone
Wretched to the bone
The time when everything feels wrong
Like a dis-chord in a song

I find it impossible to explain
Most things seem to be going right
Though I still feel like I am losing the fight
Most things seem to be in place
Except for me of course in this rat race

So what now?
Waiting for the crunch of Murphy's law
Trying to see where lies the flaw
Waiting for time to come to an end
A time when I won't have to pretend

You see, it is that time again
When I feel the cold fingers down my spine
Positive energy in decline
When I try to smile and prevent the panic
While I slowly turn depressingly manic

She's not the one
And she's not the one
And She's Not The One!
Shoot my Soul, if you've got the gun
I've had enough and I've had no fun

© Rahul Chidambaran 2011


  1. need a drink!
    stop and not think.

  2. So songly! I love this poem.

  3. You are right. I understand this set of sensations.