Genre: Abstract, Love
I live in the darkest apartment of the city under the bridge.
This is not a love poem. It does not have hidden meanings.
It has a story of the happiest man I know.
I am certain that I love the color black.
But I do not wear any. I wear brown instead.
I like darkness not on me but outside
To assure that it isn’t curbed anywhere inside.
I cheat myself when I add milk to coffee and
When I shave my head and
When I do not ascertain my groceries at night.
You can touch me from anywhere
I guarantee you my existence
But not my location.
I do not carry maps. Only train passes.
I choose girls wearing black on themselves
To help me with addresses
And get ignored due to juxtapose dressing.
The story is colorless. Less interesting than rainbows.
I have many ‘Once upon a time’ in my head
The tales no one would love in dark.
I sleep till 2 in the morning.
My bag has black and white paints
Black to build and white for corrections.
This hiding place of mine has a bulb
Whose occasional presence is reminded
Only for reading dates on the cans.
I paint signboards for a living.
People provide me colors only then.
My friendships start on an endgame.
I have friends whom I have met only once.
And shall never meet again.
Storms are good until and unless the roof leaks
I find weeds beautiful too.
My family does not know I live almost homeless
All they know is that I am happy.
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