Shape And Size

I wanted everything in my life in the shape of round But the real world showed me many things in squire Instead of changing the world I started to change my mind And wanted things in a shape of perfect triangular The sisters of fate appeared and gave me things in red Puzzled a bit, I proceeded to get my notion changed No change occurred, all things appeared the same With same nature, with same taste and odd puffy smell No place is left, no where to get anything new and fresh The same old, the same cold ice ruling the stalling world Heat I got but that too lost its crafty art and soothing grace Learnt to live with heaps and grew hills of consolation in plenty A storm came from inside and took out all when I wanted less.