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I hate the sky when its a pale blue-
Call me distasteful,
I know you will.
The sun drops falling on the golden hay-
Beauty to the beholder,
But, to me, a laborer's added sweat.

The antique wooden carvings on the door-
Expenses galore,
And for what, I wonder?
The chandelier earrings she flaunts,
Brilliance that makes one blind-
How inconsiderate!

The aroma of blended coffee-
Appealing to the senses be it,
Yet, I hate the flavour.
The cobwebs of purest white hue-
Disgraceful to the dweller,
Yet, artful, in my eyes.

Why not? Why can't I be?
I know, reasons galore, you have-
To offer me.
But, none worthwhile.

And so, let me be on my own-
Let me savour the greys,
Let me breathe in the dust,
And let me rot in the luxury of anonymity.