by Asim Rafiq Mulla
When your life turns predictable,
And your heart turns black.
When you are numb to the miserable,
And all the lower shack.
When you murder your dreams,
And chase only the green paper.
When you cover all the beams,
And commit to heart-hated labour.
When you hate the mornings;
Hate the augmenting work.
When you repel love bearings,
And move around the minting smirk.
It is then you realize, your life is unholy.
You, my friend, are the victim of monotonous monopoly.
-A R Mulla.
Last updated October 13, 2015