Meenas PoemsAn expectation for long
has to be realized soon
could be a boon
a revelation could that be
surfaces frim within
renders an untold satisfaction
an haven of recitiude
a graceful resolution
leaves the heart free
makes it revel and relish.
An expectation thereon
could become a reality
if the trend goes on
it would result in prosperity.
The wait is a kill
needs a tolerance
if one cannot be still
there would be a difference.
An endurance with patience
would bring glory
Well, then the sustenance
would never be sorry.
A stoicism would help
the resolute would succeed
so it should be a step
first and final indeed.
The day breaks with sounds great
crackers add to the cheer
flying up in the sky
making a blast and a noise huge
heralding a brand New Year.
The year is supposed to bring
innumerable joy and thrive
proposing a prosperity and drive
that be the expectations of all
as hope is the thing that makes up all.
Expecting so much from the 
new-born
stretching too much from the nascent
being a great strain to the little one
yet we get in the stream
enforcing much part of our dream.
The year is another leaf
a new shoot from an old tree
performing as its predecessors
nothing more and nothing less
a simple equation indeed.
Taking that much in consideration
anticipating nothing more in suggestions
a plain acceptance of this day as normal
helps us play a safe game
that of caution and restraint.
Help sometimes turns a fault
doing it as a service is a default
getting paid for help is wrong
as you can find it in this song
singing about help without expectation
be the best source of satisfaction
as helping for a cause on the whole
sends an immense pleasure in the fold
the thought of money should never be
nor does the reciprocal come with a fee
as and when it is done forget it
never carry the thought in mind in a bit
go on your way as if nothing has been done
get the help rendered 
out of your mind in turn
that be the cardinal you follow
never having anything in the allow.
That what is going to happen hold us with an anticipation.
We go to Tarot readers with an expectation.
We sit before the Parrot reader waiting for a prediction.
We rush to the astrologer for a detailed resolution
The future holds us with a fear and a bind.
Pushing us towards a thought in the hind
We unlock our dreams that lie in the mind.
The thoughts which cause a break from the line.
We, eager to get over and reach the top slot
go in circles, employ turns and plot.
The success is but minimal with little ingots.
Yet the future makes us live always with a task.
It forces us to 
live with a mask.
It was a wait, very long wait.
It was an expectation, much expected.
It was a desire, most wished.
It was a thought, serious thought.
It was a solution, well solved.
It was a decision, carefully decided.
It was an inclusion, stealthily included.
It was a belief, strongly believed.
Well it was everything that comprised all things.
The ease winds up,
A struggle sets in,
The mind oscillates,
Anger mounts up,
The face turns scarlet,
The heart beats fast,
The body shakes in vigour,
Tears roll down,
Words fail,
It appears ferocious,
But it is nearly so,
It is a deep strain,
It is an alarming plight,
It is a terrific strife,
It is a 
trembling expectation.
Let us wait in patience.
The coin flew up in the air,
All eyes got stuck in a glare,
Head cried the majority ,
Tail whimpered the minority,
The coin slowly landed in a glide effortlessly.
All hearts thumped fast,
All eyelids fluttered very fast,
The coin descended slowly,
It fell on the ground very slowly.
It could be head or tail obviously.
Lo! the coin was smudged badly,
No head or tail in it really,
The head got disfigured in the damage,
The tail got erased in the rummage
It was a faceless coin. with no image.
The anticipation died down,
Every visage had a visible frown,
That which arouses expectation more,
Falters in disappointment all the more,
A bitter lesson hard to comprehend evermore.
Will it happen?
Minds sharpen,
Awaiting the final
Refuting the denial.
Will it not?
Hearts wrought,
Anticipating the conclude,
Which should never allude.
Furies cringe the mind,
Tensions break the bind,
Reasons mount high,
Desire cries with a sigh.
OH! What will it be?
There arises a nervous plea,
As the head knocks down crazy,
In a miserable dizzy.
The catastrophe draws close,
There appears a force,
That claims a consequence,
Of a sensible relevance.
It may turn out as you wish,
It may pull away so that you miss,
Take it with poise ,
Says the inner voice.
Meenas Poems 