The crack I heard
made a sound so strange
making me to be on toes
not knowing from where it came
stood almost motionless for a time
while my thoughts made their own story ‘
that being a crash of the roof
a collapse that is coming down
while I being trapped in the ruins
with no help in the proximity
not even able to shout for help
as my voice got stifled in between
that be the end of me cried my soul
which had readied itself to fly
leaving my mortals under the roof
with none to claim it
as my imagination was building up
my reality came into existence
finding myself standing where I am
intact full of flesh and bone
nothing wrong has taken place
except a creaking sound from the iron gate
where the paper boy 
has thrown the news paper
with that begins the day of work
that is my routine all through the years
first in the morning going through the news
be it how many gadgets come up
with news getting flashed up all day and night
the paper in hand in the morning
has been my delight all my life
as you know habits die-hard,
Meenas Poems 