Sometimes, it feels like
My chair has a set of eyes.
That it creepily stares at me
To suck all my dreams.
It feels like the wall clock,
Has a pair of ears.
Makes me uncomfortable,
Thinking if it knows my secrets.
I wonder if the gas-cylinder
Has a nose that sniffs off
My stink and snorts up
Whatever ambition I'm left with.
The metal-lock, perfume-bottle.
The helmet, the iron-box.
The more I look at them and
Think, the more creepy they become.
I freaked out one day and
Accidentally came in front of
The mirror..
My eyes were a pair of chairs.
Two clocks in place of ears.
I sneezed out of shock and
The gas off my nose caught fire.