Deep Inside Poem by Aditya Paul

From the morning rush,
To the evening fatigue
Everyday you brush
With your passion, somewhere in attic

Daily you work,
But no where you go
These provocations you tuck
And off to work you go

That history repeats itself
From Monday to Friday —
But Alas! The passion never shows up, to the self
And all your hardwork, goes spiritually to hay

At the end of your mortality,
you free the thought you had tied
You die with no tranquility
Alas! You have no circumstance —
to which you give high five