Chand ka shikwa

You no longer visit me my love,
Perhaps I should be grateful.
You don't bow to me these days either, 
That was embarrassing.

Despite my glad tidings
You keep rejecting my advances 
Hiding behind mathematical punditry
Beaurocracy, Community, Saudi Moronarchy.

Why won't you look at me when I'm liminal?
You are no oil painting yourselves,
Don't think I can't see you,
Trudging heavily along your clingo-filmed rock.

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