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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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