Trapped in a cage, we all are
We try, try to get out!
Try to paint ourselves with iridescent chromatic colors,
Try to look how everyone is;
Interlocked tabs of a jigsaw puzzle,
Perfectly intertwined like the different threads of a finely weaved rug.
Splashing chromatic colors everywhere,
But where's the grey?
And the black?
Arent we supposed to splash those colors too?
We keep them at bay,
They're too gloomy to seek our company.
The facades of the houses are colorful, an alluring mix of flamboyancy,
The sunny boulevards enclosing it,
Paved and cemented with unceasing trivial and insubstantial matter
Too much cacophony, vague colloquy!
The dilapidated house adjoining it,
The grey wall behind the multihued facades,
The shabby mosses and weeds in the backyard,
The wildflowers amidst the field of roses and daisies,
Unobtrusive, they are
Unuttered, they remain!
The stout walls and robust roofs are excellent secret keepers,
They don't tell tales, they savor the honeydew of rainbows,
They try to keep the promise of superficiality and shallowness,
Deep embedded in its walls are tales of melancholy and wretchedness
That are hushed by the powerful voices gliding in the colorful houses
Because they say “Too much of achromatic colors make the house look unhappy
And you aren't supposed to look weak”