Nothing

five twirling fingers
five shiny polished nails
counting the nights
hoping it'll all be over.

suppose when tomorrow comes
the world will still be the same
but the life isn't
and the longing will fade

funny, funny how things turns up
never what one wants
as if an invisible hands
are playing us like peons

sitting here gazing at nothing
wondering how it all had begin
why had the life intersect
only to be apart