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The Poet In Me

Rushing for an early morning ride
Luck was on my side
Only a two minute delay
And the Uber was there to say

Got in the front seat
Settled to the music beat
From there a conversation starts
Coming ahead is interesting parts

We get to the family tree
A talk that is free
He has a daughter and a son
And responsibilities, a tonne

The daughter only three years old
And then the story, let it unfold
I ask “what about the other one?”
He says “Plans, I have none”

An engineer sitting on beside
Swept away by the tide
“But what about your support”
He answers -“It was for that I report

“He likes a pencil and a white sheet
On that, anyone he can beat
Let him pursue his talent, his field
Only then there would be a yield”

The poet in me raises his voice
“Why you did not make that choice
What stopped you after all?
Why did you stall?”

It is wrong to shift the blame
I should have believed in my game
Everyone would have been my side
And then it would have been my tide

But then it is never too late
I still do not have to wait
I will surely make it one day
And this story will always stay

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Life's Life Line

Their use never ends As they go through the bends To bathe, wash and clean And still we are mean
They are the true life line Their changing colour is a sign Even though they quench our thirst We do not put them first
“They will always be there So why should I spare Even if they die out Someone else will shout”
This attitude is a norm We cannot fathom the storm High time that we stop Or be left with a drop
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