Hardik Vaidya (26 Dec 1969, yet to kick the bucket. / Mahuva, Gujarat, India.)
Why have you pawned your soul to her?
To the lines on your palm, as they run down and murmur?
To the parrots who choose cards, caged, devoid of their greens,
Wanting to break free and beg to demur?
Why does it not get into your thick skulls, that you are not the only ones?
Silver, gold or platinum, even steel would do, the spoon that fed you is the only one.
From what you imbibe, comes alive the spirit of your life,
Stop being such terrible imbeciles, do justice, you are alive.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Destiny by Hardik Vaidya )
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