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  • Khushboo Singh, Mumbai

    A poem written by Patient:

    Hearts are earned & not gifted

    Things done in the past that I regret

    Wake up on a pillow that is wet

    Clouds of mist and dust

    With a share of vanilla lust

    Annoyed disgusted and lonely

    Thinking of losing the one and only

    Mistakes are forgiven but not all

    Broken threads with knots I recall

    The ferris wheel will still move on

    A coaster of reality from Funeral to born

    All my flowers with an angel disguised

    Regrets in the coffin built by my prize

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