Salon To Nightmare

That day was my birthday dear,
I got up and found my hair clung from head to floor;
I scared by this long hair,
Is this any nightmare?

Soon my bulb switched on,
I rushed to the salon;
My chariot rode a bit faster that day,
thinking about the consequences that may;
....in the salon......
My bloom face showed him all the gloom,
He preferred sickles and spades to scissors and blades to trim;



Suddenly a voice woke me up saying good morning,
I looked here and there and understood nothing;
In despair I looked at my hair,
I felt relieved as it was clear.

by kiran raaz

Other poems of RAAZ (3)

Comments (3)

Kiran, Just try to remember, whether you have any 'Mokkubadi' to Lord Venkateswara Swamy. I think this kind of dreams are common to Tirupathites. Very fuunny. I enjoyed reading this nice piece.
a nice dream. beautifull. posted 10 for u. surya
mm... nice but i would like for you to specify your poems in something deeper... but if you do you'l be a great poet.. i like it: D keep on writting