The sunrises in the east to set in the west
Oh! what boring ritual it must be for the sun
We are all busy in living a life without rest
And Some alms is all we get for this run…
These alms cant buy me a sound sleep
Niether can they stop the fast ticking clock
Then what for we give the meals a skip
And lock our dreams in a banks cloak.
People say poem is all about imagination
Its the work of those sitting ideal
Just ponder upon this wierd assumption
Isn’t our life a poem in real??
Everyday is poem and every man living is a poet….
The life we live today is that of a robot
Degrees are bought with few notes
A child has no right to chose his own boat
False familial legacy is damp and rot.
We have no time for imagination
Forget about keeping relation
Yet we boast of this illiteracy
And call our lives a matter of supremacy
In this world of machines requiring repair
Poems and poets bring some air fresh
So that live sound better, above all despair
Everyday is poetry and every man living is a poet…