Let it be buried, unknown, unsung like an unwanted child,

In the darkness of the night, before we change our mind.

With no entries made in the registry, and the keeper looking away,
we will be lucky if no one comes our way.

With the breaking of the rays,

We can smile sans fear.

Not recognize that patch of clay,

Which the keeper wouldn't care.

It would then just be another number, 

A date we will try not to remember,

We would go about living our perfect lives,

With the sound of tiny footsteps following us forever.

*
 

Jay Jagdev | March 19th, 2018