Little did Lina knew about it.
Little did she talked about it.
Little did she care about it.
Yet, she was thrust into it.
The much she knew about it.
The much she talked about it.
The much she cared about it.
She was let out of it.
So much to know about it.
So less to talk about it.
So much to care about it.
Lina was more or less away from it.
As much to think about it.
As less to speak about it.
As much to attend to it.
Lina absolutely ejected it.
That much thought about was a trash.
That much talked about was a bash.
That much cared about was a gas.
She discreetly committed a thrash.
Well, it was a cock and bull story.
Well, it was a series of tales hoary.
Well,l it was a compiling of events unholy.
Well, Lina relinquished herself totally .
It might sound vague to all.
It might read incoherent to all.
Better it be an enigma to all.
It is best to be so to all.
Meenas Poems 