Poems I thought had good rhythm and Rhyme,
And a moral good at the end of each;
Good Poems I thought should the test of time,
And remained well within the masses’ reach.
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When every time I’ve got to fast,
My hunger pangs then seizes me,
I feel so weak and terrible,
Until I eat or drink something!
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The rich become richer and the poor poorer;
This is the way in which this world goes on!
Men may become suddenly rich, not born;
A rich man turns suddenly a beggar.
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Yes, Tamil has got classical status
Because it is an ancient language great,
That lives and grows midst people globally,
Enchanting, enthralling all equally.
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’Tis tough to grind poppy seeds to a paste,
By mixie or by any means in haste;
Such is the grittiness of seeds tho’ small,
Invincible a foe, need not be tall.
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Every time, they crush the bees to death and
Steal away their sweet honey in a trice;
And wax to make candles of immense size;
The Queen bee escapes to another land.
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Woman, thy beauty lies not in thine shape,
Nor in the color of thy skin but heart!
If only thou practiced a tongue-tied art,
And modesty with neck with a high drape!
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O Master Bard and supreme Dramatist!
A self-styled, literary genius, Thou art!
Globe’s unsurpassed, sole word-painting Artist!
Ev’r-living soul who canst never depart!
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Am I wasting God, my time in this place?
Am I missing a chance to serve Thee Lord?
Am I keeping still a weird, mask-like face?
Help me, O God to act as per Thy code.
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O spare me Lord from money in excess,
And let me never love it more than life;
It clothes my body with a pretty dress,
But puts my soul in never-ending strife.
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