In one single word, I have to define.
It is not easy, but to strive is my kind.
To give up, is not in my blood,
To rest on my haunches is not what gives me trust.
Trust not in you, but in me,
I was not born for anyone but me.
I am always nude, and never ashamed,
I wear clothes because I like playing the game.
I have been born to ask question, and questions.
And my questions are asked to me by me.
I answer them every single moment, non hesitantly.
I never runaway, I face, I stand and I look them in their eye,
And I give them back, in truth, or surrender to their might.
My heritage is a question, my life is a question, my civilisation is a question.
If a question was never invented, you would never be reading this poem.
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (My Heritage by Hardik Vaidya )
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