A Piece of Trash

Its like one of those times when u feel tired of life.... and you don't care for 'almost' anything... u just wanna take a big sigh, lay back, look back or may be even not.. U just want to forget about your existence... you wouldn't even care for for a fresh lease of life or a miracle even if they are knocking on your door vigorously... you! are simply not interested... You just want to be like those used packages, broken stationery and paper-trash strewn at a little distance from me.

One good thing about trash is that it does not complaint. It lies wherever you dump it. (ok, we r not talking about the foul smelling kind of trash)... Trash just lies there, quietly, motionless, without any anxiety, happiness or sadness, not caring for anyone, not being cared for either..
So, in times like these if ur hands are on the keyboard, what can u expect...just another piece of trash as follows ::


LINES

Someone told him
that someone
took a pencil
in hand and
started drawing
some lines
never lifting up
the pencil
from the paper.

Someone told him
that someone
is still drawing
those lines
and still hasn't
lifted up
the pencil.

why the hell
should he care?
Let him draw.

Someone told him
that those lines
tell his life,
his history and
impending fate.
When they get dense
his life gets screwed.
When they get smooth
his life gets cool.

Someone told him
"hey, they might be
the lines of your life"
Oh ! He was struck
for a moment.
"Does he have enough paper
to keep drawing?" :-)

Someone told him
"hey i think i know
the whereabouts
of the guy who
draws your lines"

"oh you do.."
he said lazily

"yah..wanna know?"

"no thanks..
let him draw
let me rest
zzzzzz...."