I Texted God My Problems

I texted God my problems

For I was sad and lonely

Pat came His reply

‘Can’t talk, Whatsapp only’

Father’s Day Out

Wife’s gone out with friends

I’m home with our two sons

I’m supposed to manage

While she has all the funs

It’s days like these when I feel

I should have been alone

Never should have married

Or kids should all be grown

One of them is hungry

The other’s crying loud

It’s like I’m locked inside

A room of angry crowd

Well I’m feeling helpless

There’s nothing I can do

This is mental torture

I want to cry out too

Well I give them board games

And some packaged food

It always works out with her

With me it isn’t good

And the cries get louder

Hunger takes its toll

Trying to run a house

Where I have no control

Well my wife just text me

‘How the angels are?’

Should I text back the truth

About my brand new scar?

Then she texts me again

Stamps and seals my fate

‘Hey, my battery’s low now

It might get quite late’

A Treasure Map

Once I found a treasure map

With an ‘X’ marked upon it

It got me quite excited

That I must admit

I followed the map’s trail

With a spade in my hand

It led me to a garden

Desolate and abandoned

In the barren garden stood

A giant of a tree

That was the treasure spot

My heart was filled with glee

So I began digging

Digging for hours on end

Digging all day and all night

With a spade in my hand

Many such days did pass

No sign of a chest

Though I dug up everywhere

Though I tried my best

An old man came up to me

Said, “Son, I see you sweat

But what is it you want?

What do you wish to get?”

Though I wasn’t very keen

I narrated my tale

About the dusty treasure map

About the ‘X’ and trail

He said, “You’ve got it wrong

The treasure is the tree

No need to be digging

This map was made by me”

I looked at him with rage

Knocked him with my spade

Buried him on the spot

Under the giant tree’s shade

I Think I Might Be In Love

I think I might be in love

With these sleepless nights

Loss of appetite

Head’s full of stress

Room’s a complete mess

I’m trying new things

Laughing at bad jokes

Full of insecurity

Filled with anxiety

Zero concentration

Zero focus

I am definitely in love

But then again

Who am I in love with?

Depression?

Around A Month Ago

When from school, my Johnny comes

He has a bag full of slimy worms

I don’t know much, I must presume

He keeps them all up in his room

There’s nothing much that I can say

It’s just a hobby to pass his day

Developed suddenly around a month ago

When I threatened to cut his favourite show

He plays with them all sorts of games

He’s even given them trendy names

Like Rux and Tazz and Weepy Dan

And Phubber and Bubber and Creepy Man

I must admit I’m afraid of worms

Or any creature that twists and squirms

I simply cannot stand the view

I find them gross and ugly too

Thank God my Johnny isn’t aware

That his worms put me through a scare

Only my personal journals know

Which I lost around a month ago