Poetry, She Is Pestering Me.

She Is Pestering Me.

She is pestering me.

Give me money,

Give me rice.

Give me food.

Give me burgers.

She is definitely pestering me.

Take me to the movies.

Buy me jewelry.

Spend more money on me.

Is she mad?

Yes, she is.

She is pestering me.

Buy me onions.

Buy me ginger.

I think “give me and buy me” are two distinct entities.

Buy me noodles.

Buy cold drinks,

Something with a dew, which is more fizzy.

Buy me rubber band,

Buy me electronic items.

Buy me a brand new phone.

Again, buy me a new phone,

Then with 64 GB RAM.

Take me to Dubai.

Fly me to The grand city of New York.

Will she pay the air fare, hotel and other expenses?

Ofcourse not!

She is a pesterer, a leech.

A good for nothing.

Well, she is pestering me.

I have trying hard to avoid her,

But I couldn’t.

Who is she?

She is mind.

Under whose veil everyone works.

Adios!

Poetry, Tributaries.

Tributaries.

Tributaries,

Are a wonder of nature.

From a river,

Either big or small,

Flow around the laid said path,

Quenching the thirst and needs of millions who come in her way.

Sometimes, a tributary makes new paths and way,

It is the beauty and miracle of the lord that,

He blesses the humanity,

Though they are much far apart.

Like a tributary, Lord himself is unknown,]

Who knows?

One day,

When he might show himself,

Beholden in his majestical wooden throne.

Adios!

A Third Time Pass., Poetry

A Third Time Pass.

A Third time pass,

 Of Higher Secondary Exams.

Decided to be a graduate.

He graduated with full marks.

He even became a post graduate.

And got married.

Yet, the memories of passing his second time haunted him.

Now he has decided to become a teacher in his part time,

So that he could do wonders for his students,

And teach them the subjects properly.

He further decided,

To take up teaching as a full time job,

And retired with his head held high.

Ain’t so bad for a person,

Who was once ridiculed for being a third time pass.

Adios!