Treasure Island

sree Jothi


I am a “Slum Dog”
No freedom to wail my midnight sorrows
No collar round my neck
A mark of respect or a sense of belonging
But sure, a band of indentured labor

With drooping ears and downcast eyes
My tail, never in a perfect coil
Tucked between hind legs
I move back and forth as I watch
I play an unpaid watchman

I am the prince of the night
Though pauper of the day
I brush along the dirty walls
Scanning the urine streaks of man machines
And co-exit with my ‘big black brother’
Together, we win battles over bins
Victory shares us by turns

My existence waits on municipal tables
To dub me mad and dispense with
My life is measured between
A bit of life and a bite of death
The fatal stroke of a pen or a club,
A rear wheel of a drunken driver
Decides my inevitable day.

Submitted: Thursday, August 22, 2013
Edited: Friday, August 23, 2013

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Comments about this poem (THE PRINCE OF THE NIGHT by sree Jothi )

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  • Sekharan Pookkat (8/22/2013 7:10:00 PM)

    good penning- all thoughts of a pet who locked in collars will cause a bit of life and a bite of death I enjoyed (Report) Reply

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