It was a high-flying kite.
It glimmered in the sun-bright.
Carrying the col
ours red, blue and white,
It rose up and up to great heights.
The children cried in delight.
They were thrilled at the sight.
The kite enacted a great fight.
It rose up and up to great heights.
The cord that held it extended right.
It, in its elongation, got tight.
The kite faltered in its flight.
Yet, it rose up an up to great heights.
The cord knotted itself in a bite.
The knots closed up to a strangling plight.
The kite made a descent slight.
Alas! it fell down and down from great heights.
Man’s ascent has a tremendous 
insight.
He muscles and manipulates to reach atop alright.
His movement gets mulled at a point outright.
He tumbles down to the ground like the falling kite.
Meenas Poems 