Con Game

Why this fistful of heart never gets ashamed of it's mischief? It's a rascal. Though I order it not to move about for it is sick and bruised, it would slip through quietly limping on the sly. It tells me bunch of extrapolations and exaggerations of truth and would force me to believe them till I give in. Finally, I give in for I, myself can't do otherwise. Yes, I'll be happy but soon I see you all from no-where. I see Hamlet in each of you. I see Santhi, Rakesh, Praveen, Cnu, Sowmya and even Anna. I am scared to see you sighing at me in rage "Frailty, thy name is woman!" I hide my face and would hurriedly look for that little rascal who put me to this humiliation. But it is not again in it's place. I mumble to it peeping through myself "I plead you to come forward. I am not here to punish you. This time, I beg you to play your tricks and tell me all your sweet and absurd stories to save me from this moment of disparage. Please do stand by me.. my sweet little thing. I lack the courage, of which you have plentiful." But it leaves me to my misery without an answer.