Sometimes, I feel it is better to die young.
“No” I say, “it is not in your hands”
I know pretty well.
So thinking I grow up in years
death still remains far
I presume
“No”! I cry. My heart warns
” You can never predict death”.
Assume my heart will give up.
stop pumping and will rest in peace.
That day might be today, tomorrow,
this hour, no one knows.
Meenas Poems 