This Isn't A Poem

This isn't a poem about the tear-full lines
nor is it about the minty taste of lime.
It's not about the beers and red wines,
the pukes and the leftover grime .

This isn't a poem about the candle light,
nor is it about the mood that swings like a kite
It's not about my mewing pajamas on a windy night
or the solitude songs I attempted to write.

This isn't about the muffles of juddering train,
Its definitely not about the unsent mail,
the chirps of crickets on a leaking drain
or the panic in my face when PUPPY stops wiggling its tail.

This is a poem about the pictures on my wall pasted in lines,

the boy in midst of bliss-full family once upon a time.

This is a poem about the dimmed light,

the cozy feelings that turns me on to write.

It is about the condensed stories I fed my eyes over again

and the girl in my dream with a ponytail.