Poets, Poets, Poets And Poetry Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

Poets, poets, poets, poets and poetry,
Poetry and the poets, poetry and the poets,
God, save me, save from the poets,
Poets coming, getting introduced to, showing the manuscripts
And the texts.

God, O God, if You are here, please come here
And see the plight of being the poets’ friend,
Living in their Poetry Corner,
The area where they dwell in,
I mean their villas are.

God, God, save me, save me from,
Save me from,
From the poets and their poetry,
Poets coming in droves to meet me
And my maid unwilling to make tea for them.

They writing poetry even on their way to office,
Getting down from the bicycle
And writing poems
Under the shade of a tree
And the text still not complete.

The whole of life has spent in writing poetry
And hairs have whitened,
But his hope has not deserted him,
Hoping against hope in to be a poet
Of repute.

Poets, poets, poets and poetry,
God save me from the poets and their poetry,
The poets living nearer to the campus,
The poets continuing,
As poetry dies it not, goes on multiplying.

And the poets for poetry and poetry for the poets,
The poets poets,
Living for poetry,
Dreaming for poetry, thinking for poetry,
The poets and poetry.

Poets, poets, poets,
Poets and poetry,
There is no talk without
The poets and their poetry,
Poets, poets, poets,
Poets and their poetry.

Poets, poets, poets and poetry,
They ask it,
What is it in poetry,
Why do you write,
Think of the time wasted for,
Can poetry give food?

God, God, save me from the poets
Coming,
Coming to read their poetry,
Show what they have,
What it is in the manuscripts,
Poetry, poetry, poetry, the poets and poetry?