The Bachelors Of Life.. Poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi

The smell of freshly printed currency,
Just retrieved from the mouth of money ideology,
Anything can be obtained with a few ‘signs’,
The world has been made very simple and looks fine,

What is the need to get interlinked and in pain,
The fantasy gets fabricated now and then,
All alone in the dungeon clumsy rooms,
The self ironed shirt hung with no much strain,

The match boxes and lighters have hues,
To darken the area, where the air is more,
Needed, I am an old bachelor in the town,
Walking erect wearing the caps,

Gaze through the brims of the eye lids,
The world is very pleasant with no nagging,
From the womenfolk, the forbidden fruits,
They may mesmerize with the evils of the,

Colorful solid weapons which I detest,
My world is very fine with good sleep and,
Not get interrupted with nasty perfume,
never get chained with poles of affection.