To write page and page
On your message window gauge,
Your fingers pain and protest
But you have to pass a message,
Your aim to all’s is quite clear,
Now it is time to engage,
But what! Just a missed call it is,
And my heart shrieks with rage.
Such a kind of thankfulness
Is not expected of this age
To have a mobile in all this mess
Is such a great privilege.
Use it as a polyphonic doorbell,
As you answer the door
So many messages, so many requests,
Doesn’t it ever shake your core?
So next time you get a message,
Don’t just smile thankfully,
Pick a few words that are always there,
Express them back to me,
Though I tell them so in the message,
I know they never gave a green,
Coz once again a ‘sweet missed call,
What’s that supposed to mean? ? ?
Hey, that was nice, loved how you structured it and esp how you ended it, a question always works, very enjoyable piece. Btw i love giving missed calls, a missed call means i miss you/i remember you :) Preets
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
lol..! nice poem.. Asma...