The Exit... Poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi

When the damsel wear two piece dresses,
The kings of homes cover their legs and hands,
Inviting looks and suggestive shakes,
The common sense gets striped to share the cake.

The sticks of concrete structures are visible,
A few short, a few tall, but both young and old,
The neon, argon and the simple vacuum tubes at night,
Change this place into the oceans of stars ablaze.

The heaven is here on the earth in the dungeons,
Where the manure of old thoughts are the weeds,
The God and The Goddess play with their nervous swing,
Let them enjoy for a while leaving all tears and moan.