Hardik Vaidya (26 Dec 1969, yet to kick the bucket. / Mahuva, Gujarat, India.)
Houston I have a Problem.
Why should I compete with my self?
Way to go, Cmon, Atta boy,
Why should I throw punches in air?
Fighting my shadow.
Why do I have to be my own judge?
And be forced by my soul, to be extra tough.
Why do I always have to be my own executioner?
Ruthless, dedicated, the bastar rope, well knot.
Why do I have to be my own grave digger?
Perfectionist, pure and measured.
The world is nothing to me,
I have been my biggest enemy.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
The scribbler is against any form of Capital Punishment for records sake as long as it is lawful.
Comments about this poem (Houston I have a Problem. by Hardik Vaidya )
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