Life's fallacies line up like a rigmarole,
In the rough and tumble of a living row.
The fantasies of childhood fail to further in adolescence.
Teen age glories become tissues of lies.
Romance developed like a baby in mother's womb,
Recedes like some mothers' gestational diabetes.
Even adulthood amusements have an undercurrent
Of anemic backlogs.
Mismatch of marriages,like a child and its sullen looks,
Manipulates exotic printouts of daily delusions.
Roses are made but not grown.
Ageing surrenders to the rancid course of mulling
In matter-of -fact reminiscences.
The terminal collection of silly nothings
Transforms into flowery wreaths and rich requiems
With a bonus of frills and filigrees
For the decorative map of each one's life line.
P.Chandrasekaran.
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