I blew the dust off the radio,
Just so I could hear that strumming again,
You played this tune so well,
And now it just seems like ancient.
I've forgotten the words,
And the guitarstrings are too stiff to play.

I have to resort to the artificial to relearn,
Observe the phoney to bring the magic.
Fortunately you did teach me well,
So I will pick it up real quick,
And probably compose a melody myself,
But please wait till then,
For it will take time to remember everything,
Your smile and the exact texture of your voice.

Paper Boat

As I watched the still puddle after the storm,
Couldn't help but realise reality,
The paper boat didnt stand a chance,
Not even in a tinier water body,
It's destiny is to sink.
That's the reason the little boy crafted it,
With his own pudgy fingers,
So that he could lift it soaked and drowned,
Tear it down and pretend he never made it.

Weary

So beautiful that my mind is now stretched,
Beyond and around to leave no corners,
So weary it makes me that I have to run slow,
Stop it from wandering across those open pastures,
Where someone sings and I listen.
The dense roads cannot stop me from thinking,
Nor can the constant clamour that clutters,
And leaves virtually no room.
I am so weary that I could drop dead,
But it only makes me want to live more.

And so I am Ready

Ready to spread the span,
Leave an abode,
Fly far away,
And get closer to the next.