Why should I, why should I change?
Am I a season or a colour,
That changes over time?
Looking left and right, I wonder why so
rage,
That beautiful pheasant is locked in a cage,
What's her fault, she wants to fly,
It tears me into tears, am I a sage?
Why should I, why should I change?
Am I a season or a colour,
That changes over time?
Moving ahead, looking down, in rain,
An old man without food, is suffering to
pain,
No food to eat, in speeding age,
I give him some money, a jacket to wear.
Why should I, why should I change?
Am I a season or a shade,
That changes over time?
I feel the tickling of ecstatic cold winds,
I feel the warmth of being in that place.
Those experiences now tend to stay over
time,
Producing more mirth, in a worldly rat race.
Why should I, why should I change?
Am I a season or an expression,
That changes over time?
Walking down the lane, watching people
passing by,
Walking the same footsteps every single day.
Wondering if they ever took a left,
Or a right, taking a new lane.
Perhaps I notice so much,
But there's no change.
Why should I, why should I change?
Am I a season or an emotion,
That changes over time?
Just the way no one does, so why should I
change?
Written on 13-04-2018.
This is an original work of the author and has been protected under the Indian Copyrights Act, 1957. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any forms or by any means including copying, recording or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior permission of the publisher.

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