P.S. Notes from my desk #18
How are you? – I’m good.
Almost like a reflex. Like we should.
Better be good. Say that - since childhood.
What is the likelihood? Of saying the truth.
I’m angry, hurt or sad. Actually broken, understood?!
How many times do you lie? Fight back your tears and deny.
Are you okay? You fake a smile.
With bloodshot eyes n trembling hands,
An aching heart n one helluva spine,
You always say - Yeah! I’m fine.
These questions we ask. Almost as a cursory task.
Do we really wanna know, what’s behind the mask?
So today, here I am.
Extending my arm – No pretense, no sham.
I’ve stopped to listen. You’re not a passing glance.
Let’s talk. Share. Make the most of this happenstance.
You tell me how you are. Unedited. Time no bar.
It’s not a trick question. No ulterior motives by far.
Just a genuine concern. Wanna know how you’re doing so far.
Come; tell me the truth, my rock star!
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