Had I Been Born Of My Will, But... Poem by Hem Raj Bastola

Inclusion of our involuntary mask is
Deserving a place where,
Hollow performance of a fake ease
Can not induce me as I watch.

My fever is rising
For our pinnacle of rest is
Asking to refrigerate it,
To be free from indebted smile.

For I was a prisoner
Devoid of any grasp of wisdom
Imprisoned for nine months,
After the release into the vile world
Incorporating ridiculous days
Whose monotonous routine
Into the summary of
Tedium is made.