The Book

Words have always inspired me,

those in thoughts were quite fascinating,

I got immersed in them, and they called ‘ a recluse’

When my uttered ones traveled without common sense,

I was made fun of.

But words were there as thoughts, musings,

often disguised in trivial things,

as trivial as a mother’s love for her child,

and as great as conducting an Olympic event.

The trees spoke to me,

I heeded only little but spent time

on reading newspapers.

The animals whispered often in my ears

That we “co-exist” with you.

Now, at this age, I find the written words

lack the veracity all those creatures of god

possess and exist.


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