Poetry — Presumably, I thought,
You knew the secret.
What I never understood,
You’ve been thinking
about it since long.
Nonstop and incessantly. It is an addiction now.
Chronic, incurable disease.
An asymptomatic virus.
You cannot feel that you’re
suffering from the disorder.
Because you thought it.
You took it for granted that
everything is in order.
Everyone around you is
happy to obey your orders.