The Only Tinsel

Vibrant garlands swinging here
In the darkest of corners, even
They are swinging there!

Momentary silence creeping inside
And the violinist playing the best of his skills
In the portrait.

Colours and shiners all equal
To my sober attire
To my somber life.

A celebration happens, I see through my window
Window, with an only tore end of a garland
I had saved
Feels the celebration of next door.

- Aiman Qadeer