Crossing over the hurdles with difficulty
on by one in a term slow
meeting one after another
confronting each day new
from the external forces
more so from the internal resources
with the years advancing
still the struggle is not over
with bits and pieces strewn all over
lost many a fortune in the blow over
caught hold of few treasure in the fall over
which are eye sores to the near and dear
aiming to grab it from me at any cost
I hold it to the bosom firmly
withstanding the undue pressure
and legal casse with stoicism
not for me and not for me at all’
but to be passed over to my progeny intact
Meantime I would go limping ahead
with health falling and eyesight failing
but still my hands would remain active
to put them in 
their place.
Categories
Meenas Poems 