Just My Poems

#104 Counting Dilemma

It's bound to dawn on someone, that counting the number of breaths they have left, is a poignant pit of despair which they have landed themselves in.

The number is big, bigger than most figures you'd ever see. But the countdown just would not stop; the smaller the number, the wider the smile on your face.

Why is it so? Maybe the numbers which you have checked off are doctors for the soul, or enemies to kill it faster.