few more "poems" from my store...

Hey guys. Hope the net connection's fast enough...so that you don't leave my blog half visited. Well, I rather want to say 'Welcome Again!'.
This is another of my creations. This also speaks about me...and us as well. Slap me if you disagree...So, here it goes :

For The Special Suspected...

A narrow aloof lane.

I'm walking amidst silence

I seem to tip toe in his senses

The one who seems to brisk up

Right ahead of me.

He turned around pretending not

Although I catch him in the act

I was a stranger

I ne'er saw him before whatsoever.

So his crystalline mind's got a suspicion

About how harmful or tricky I am

A high tower of anxiety soars up his spine

Lurks up a familiar fear

Do you know what and why is he doing so?

Answer, he's expecting something unexpected

I'm being suspected...

A crowded route city bus.

A lady jeweled standing beside me

The lovely purse she carries…

Is a world of property and ownership

She was a rich lady

At least bravura has she managed

In the vibrating turbulent mob

Her purse must be a heartthrob

Yes, she had her nose on it

Too much to take any chance for green eyes

Standing not to accept any stare

Unfortunate me, fell into the trap!

She now attains finesse to her job

And of holding her purse tighter

Pushing her glare bang on me

Protecting the marvel of a purse brilliantly

Do you know what and why was she doing so?

No matter what the folk gain

I'm being suspected, again.

The picture of an ideal classroom

With the ideally noisy students

Having the time of their lives probably

Flying around like clueless butterflies

Comes the critically acrimonious teacher

With glasses and scorns

Blowing earfuls to the little menaces

In the ugliest way possible

Oh dear, the broken window pane

Just behind where I was seated

Stormed upon the storm of a teacher

Now stands in front of me roaring

All Jacks and Jills sitting quite now

The only sound was the one you guessed

That was like a terrible back pain

I'm being suspected, yet again.

Here I sit with a cup of coffee

With cookies to add as afters

Facing a lush green meadow

With the aesthetic orchard alongst

Beautiful thoughts waving through

There I let out a smile of mine

The world is so funny

So are the good old people

They are gentle, they are bestial

They are homes yet they are lethal

But one thing that is justified. Period.

Everyone suspects, for every reason

And I always went through suspicion

How do I think of being overprotected?

I'm being suspected.