This year
In much fluster did my time pass this year
I saw as half-empty my glass this year
Much to their chagrin they caught me smiling
My frivolities left me en-masse this year
You probably ran into some cold souls too
We’ll see them again at the Midnight Mass this year
Some let me down and I was betrayed by some
Should’ve spent more time with Amrita Das this year
Bitterness can make one lazy as hell
I spent summer lying on the grass this year
What do we say of the world we live in
I watched gold turn to brass this year
Are you broken? You didn’t even write, Apoorva
A poem for Sinterklaas this year
Apoorva in Amsterdam 