Like going uphill 
I run my life, 
I couldn't be a rock 
That rolls, 
Have I missed the thrill? 
The smiling hut, 
The sadness that is 
Sold and bought, 
Have I missed the thrill? 
Life is sad,
Life is merry, 
I face the sentence 
Of being myself,
The society tells 
The lies missed 
To be printed and 
Forgets 
Vulgar display 
Of headlines. 
Every news is not huge, 
I celebrate with
Close invitations,
And inner dialogue 
With my worship 
To the enchantress 
Of existence. 

Bio: Sushant Thapa is a poet and short story writer from Biratnagar-13, Nepal.