Treasure Island

Hardik Vaidya

(26 Dec 1969, I won't be dead till you know I am alive. / Mahuva, Gujarat, India.)

Squeaking wheel gets the oil


I have never understood this spoil.
I was never raised to ask and soil.
To live through fire and ice, were my choices, my signature toil.
When I was young, and you are always young,
I wanted your kiss, I never asked for it miss,
Why didn't you give it, free?
Did you truly believe in the dictum of the wheel?

Submitted: Sunday, February 17, 2013
Edited: Sunday, February 17, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

Inspired by a poem just published by the dashing Aric Beers.

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