Monday, December 4th

Dear diary,

Fault: Me or them?

Am I a clay?
Who can improvise in your way,
A game or a toy?
Who turns your boredom to joy
Am I a joke?
To be made fun of,
Or a clown?
At which everyone laugh
Am I a puppet?
Dancing on your digits,
Or the weather?
Changing in minutes.
Encircled with fault finding folks,
Will I survive or get choked?

prachi