Deep Inside me

Photo by Jeremy Bishop on Unsplash

Fondling with pride are cartons of petals,

Spirit of the wanderer confined to metals,

Talking and crying coz that is all it,

Filled into a bigger bloom ending into a pit.

Chaos in the run, looking for fun,

Delicious and rumbling it is a pun,

Gone are days in the hunt,

All there is a pinch of dent.

Eager to learn, at times a strain,

Breeze of minds are left to ruin,

Making of a fur, I learnt to trade,

End of time travelling to fade.