Monday, August 8, 2011


You have no one to call you by a nick name

You have no silly jaded stories to be said again and again

You have no one to buy you something when your pocket is empty

And no one to share your money resting in your purse

No one to give the birth day bump

Once you had all these things done by few but you left all those

Because you believed these were small things

And life yet has many things to be attained

You were right these were little things,

In the huge tale of life

But why you yearn? For those little things to happen

Why you cry? When these little things fails to happen

Because you know very well that

Only these little things filled as the ink of

The pen that wrote the masterpiece named friendship