Life is like an empty glass,
Only sheen of pride that transcends
It’s dead spirit to be alive,
Where reflects and adopt everyone’s characters,
Where characters are mainly dresses.
Its lights borrowed from lazy haze of the sun,
From lonely flicker of lamps,
and bright neon lights at night.
But when everything is dark,
No glitters of hope can be seen.
It’s there – no traces of beauty….
No voices heard from it’s big mouth begging for water,
To fill it’s hunger…