boxes and hoaxes

an old melody on the radio
the strange resemblance
of a fellow morning walker
to a person 
may stir open
the Pandora's box we call past.

sometimes its nothing,
nothing and the box opens up ,
horrors and joys
 come tumbling out,
each slightly coloured
by the other ,
by remaining
in the same box for long.

Am I the instrument or
am I the subject of your experiments, life?

Like children playing cat's cradle
you twist the thread of my soul
around your invisible fingers
and I often fall twisted in myself.

Rituals and more rituals
for the beginnings and the endings,
why do we believe, why we don't?

hanging
between auspicious and inauspicious
a grey cat
scared of all the noise
waits for the traffic
to cross the road.

kids behaving like adults
adults carrying
child-like fragile egos
topsy-turvy
we live your hoaxes

Goosebumps
what did you just do?