Lament Of A Wash-Basin Poem by chandra thiagarajan

LAMENT OF A WASH-BASIN

Very sorry my friends,
If by my lament,
Your tender hearts, I hurt,
When thus out I blurt.

But no other way have I,
To gain your sympathy o'er my cry,
Than in black and white to mention
And draw your kind attention.

All of you I beseech,
To yonder bin to reach
And, my dears-there to empty
Your tiffin-boxes, of left-overs sundry.

Of my gurgling throat, I'm sure,
It'll no more be wrote to cure,
For, I hope, you'll ne'er again so choke
And then, with a rod try to poke!

Thank you so much, my dears,
For so patiently lending your ears,
To the lament of a poor sink,
In this emanating stink!