Waking up to sad news
Every morning is turning into a ritual .
It shooks me the moment
I try to engulf the bad news .
Newspapers have moreover
Turned into funeral notes ,
The doorbells now rings
More for the emergency calls
From the neighbors with whom
I had talked months back ,
The radios no more play melodies
But the mourns and stories
Of all the sufferers who couldn’t speak ,
The social media and groups
Are turning into sentimental stories
They have shared with the one
They lost last night .
The clock still doesn’t pauses
But reminds us about the good old times
we had spent
In the same quarter of the day .