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kites
it was the month of july
kites, i used to fly,
the festival of Teej
pleasant cool breeze
i stood on my rooftop
with two kites in my hand
facing my so-called friend
coz it was a game
to earn the best kite flyer fame,
i looked at the kites,
choosed the one red and bright,
as it soared in the sky
started to sway instead of high
ah,! i cursed my luck,
the kite was a muck,
i tried to control it right
looked as if i never might
three minutes hence it was free,
i'd do nothing but grieve,
i wasn't the best kite flyer
and it pinched me for a year,
in despair i sat there,
and thought the reason why i lose,
the second kite if i might've adhere
i may've won and got the booze,
should've choosed instead of picking
and i might have been the kite king
IT'S JUST NOT BOUT KITES,,
BUT THE DECISION WE MAKES,,
MAY PUT OUR LIFE ON STAKE,,
ITS JUST NOT BOUT KITES I SAY
