Fortunate I am
to live in a house
with comforts.
I have nothing
much to worry
food and shelter
being granted,
I am well poised
and carefree.
Occasional physical
hiccups, leg pain, test
my withstanding capacity.
I rue and lament
frequently check
the sore knees
stabbing at times
shooting otherwise,
limiting my mobility.
Why me? I cry
Killing, I scream.
never once I realize
mine is a trivia
compared to those
who suffer irreparably.
So feeling,
I try to forget
the inconvenience.
Lo! having been quiet ‘for a time
I indulge in self sympathy,
with ahs! and ohs!
as if the world is lost,
Meenas Poems 