The farthest turns the nearest.
science manipulates
while the poor poets eulogize
all the more,the missile a
and the lander strike.
No more of singing
the beauty of Moon,
the pictures shot
by the rockets
reveal nothing grand.
The planet is another
with crates and rocks
an uneven terrain
not the most known
cheese ball.
The images cease
the excitement. Having
lost the impression,
Moon seems ordinary.,
just like any other object.
An expedition, as such
expensive and a tedium.
staggers to incite,
letting us to reflect
on a sagging silhouette.
Meenas Poems 