Dead skeletons in the closet Family lies Sudden surprise Outmost inclusion Certain solution In a disguise... Matters get worse! It's all like a curse I mask myself in anonymity but truth is I am as transparent As fragile is our equanimity.
Your skull is like a bowl You fill it with your thoughts While you fill the bowl with a white rice The scarcity of good thoughts Meaningless amount Compound like the stones In bags of the same aforementioned rice Why do you think so much? Don't blink! Tap upon a table, Make the noise your best advice.