Lost But Can Be Found

By M.Visalakchi

Why don’t we talk so much

Instead wait for the final touch

Something has happened to us

Painlessly rusting our own pulse

Human are modernized into humanless

Where we all resemble a player in the chess

Personal, privacy and lonely

Has begun to gulp our family

Voices have gone into silent mode

Hearts refusing to decode

Too lazy to find some good

Too egoistic to reveal our good

Not even giving ourself a chance

Rather siding on alternates as our fence

We need a cure for this syndrome

Cause life can’t be lived like a palindrome

Generation has mislaid the art of talking

Now there is no point in balking

By M.Visalakchi