What To Do? What To Do?
of all the friends here i knew,
some are busy in the business,
and have no time as they used too,
some have left to cities for jobs,
and to the town return rarely too,
and it has been quite a while,
when the rest to other countries flew,
and on a beautiful Sunday evening,
as i walk in the streets lonely,
i go and sit for some time in the park,
but all i see is crusade of elderly,
and i look at the big play ground,
a bit nostalgically, a bit coldly,
and i skip all the street side stalls,
what fun is in there eating quietly,
and i return home bashing the time,
why did they grow, why did i grow?
with still same thing troubling my mind,
What to do? What to do?
of all the friends here i knew...
Comments about this poem (What To Do? What To Do? by Sunny Mittal )
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