Tag: Poem

The World is moving around and round,

But  our heads are still, still.

Still understanding,How everything still fits the bill.

The bill of our will.

 A will  of our till.

A Till that is endless than our will.

Yet still.

Our Head Is on the  Ground and 

 we are standing tall 

And having a ball.

Rolling on the wall.

Till we  fall.

And Become a Bomb.

A bomb that sheds tears,

Tears that taste like beer.

Beer that’s still not clear, 

Oh! Dear 

The world is moving around.

Yet , I am standing still there.

And my mind racing, 

There,There and everywhere.

Wherever I could imagine.

It travels, with just the thought of being there

There,Where everything is the same and nothing changes.

But,Ranges from  an accepatations to some expectations.

Yet, We are still stationed.

 The world is moving around and round.

Round, still to be found

And bound to  still  be lost.

Lost  and to be tossed.

World is moving around and round.

 – Akhil Nanda