Is it too late or maybe is it not?
Yet subtly the unspoken gets woven into the fabric of our lives
The smugness with which we carry our arrogance around
And we still dream to be together
Hope the other person will read in-between the lines
As if for a headache the Doctor will prescribe two bottles of wine
We look at each other and say “Hey there!” (The smugness never faded)
But does one really acknowledge other’s presence?
Or just and illusion of standing in front of a nonexistent mirror….(it waves back too!)
The game to and fro goes ON and ON until eternity
In the End, we ask ourselves…
Is it too late? (To understand/be understood, explore, laugh, live)
Basically… Be content with our Rituals.
-N.B.
Trivia Poetry 