The Reality

Why are we shocked by the space we own?

Conveys with it a specific frustration

With not a single companion to have

But how little we need to bring

The main exhilaration that exists,

Is the exhilaration we've carried with us

Frangipanis outside needs thy steady acclaim,

The inflated shafts, once a primary fascination

Looks fit for somebody other than me, Still it’s mine

Now I think It will be known by the art we hang

May be that is the reason

Wherever we go nowadays

Vanity has tailed us like a pet

When we believe in anecdotes

Than worldly companions can never be ours

I feel that with a house this way,

I should set up a major gathering

That would please with vulnerabilities of night,

And simply attempt to settle in

As everybody, even in his own space, is a vexed visitor