Diagnoses

Neon sleepless nights ache like dry cough. 

Caught amidst wanting to pour all out
Or just give up and sleep.
Its always a question of little more,
Little more of soul-sucking harpies,
called social apps. 
Tides of anxieties rise and settle down
And winds of depression blows to and fro,
Anxious to create artificial you, perfect you
For the world to like and comment.
Bouts of depression take over, lil by lil
When everyday you fail
To tick those little boxes
You created in your head.
And in this cycle of endless nights
The sun never rises.
But who needs sun
When you have Neon sleepless nights.  

Winds of Change

A shadow rabbit, on the roof wall
A multitude of steel cuboids, rolling on road,
Their music dwindling and rising.
Orchestra is here, and I have baton.
A,B,D,F,Do Re Mi,
The notes struck down my throat.

The black phone is sitting quietly,
A single braid of hers,splits in two
Goes around my head,whispering
The notes struck again.

One,two,three, stars appear,
Or was it me who did?
Twinkle twinkle little stars
Dead you are, and so far.
Glimmer glimmer your soul.
The notes faint, but struck clearly.

Flap flap night birds,flap flap,
Flap your way to your squalor.
Let howls be your guide, as are mine.
The symphony is just beginning,
The Ford's theatre will light up tonight.
The notes will strike tonight in every booth.

And here I am, with my baton,
On my roof, a house by road.