When we had met
you were already set
yes, I was late
in starting the line on slate.
you could draw straight
while I fumbled with chalk
sometimes curved sometimes straight
like a child learning to walk.
yet wriggling, I picked up pace
and though snaky, I reached
where my chalk stood
to your chalk - face to face.
Then you reached out
and rubbed my line
And said - I must draw straight and fine
You meant well I never doubt.
numerous times you have rubbed
my line because it was curved?
you appreciated me when I went past others
but when I reached you, my line was rubbed!
Even when I can draw straight
when I have drawn longer
than you have
you say I'm a cheater
have you forgot
that I started late?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem