Living in a secured society ,
Holding values as a priority,
Putting aside likes to a substitute,
My Choices are few and absolute.
Tracing back to the forefathers,
Driving through their reforms rather,
Lets one calibrate the honours acquired
To live a systematic life as required.
Well!, with rigorous strictures ahead,
A bohemian life is a sin to be beheaded,
Following the rules set by the grandfathers,
Is the only way out for the gatherers.
It is a routine monotony prime
Getting up every day in time,
Carrying out the chores without fail,
Closing the day with no postponed trails.
When shall I get time to gaze?
At the dark blue sky in grace,
When shall I find time to hear?
The sweet songs of the birds in the rear.
Never at all ! cries my soul.
As your days are few in all.
To you the honk and the buzz ,
Are the only melody to fuss.
Is it ? I sob and sob in full
It is so in true hub, quoth my soul.
“Blessed be you with such discordance,
As you bear high the torch of reverence.
Meenas Poems 