Neeraj Mishra Poems

Today I washed my life into a washing machine.
Just within fifteen minutes.
That was a magic of washing powder and washing mode.
I was going through a dream of clean India..  Actually..
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That uncle is not good really.
After tag my neck with a towel,
He bends my neck again and again.
He cuts my innocent unkempt hair.
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If there is any difference in between me and my spine.
Than my eyes are unable to describe that difference.
Now I have been turned like my spine.
I swear blind of my spine.
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All the solved questions of Mathematics are your borrower.
Calligraphy of Hindi and English is your borrower.
Lectures of my teachers are your borrower.
Speed of my pen is your borrower.
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Any queue we were in,
Wherever we were happy.
Because the queue was moving forward..
There was someone who constantly sound "next".
...