Untag Me Poem by Sadiqullah Khan

Though I am not the proud stag,
Looking to my long, branched horns
In a spring of water;
Though you emit musk of deer,
And drink butterfly’s milk,
Though you sleep in incense,
And a bed of red roses await you.
Your posts hunt me like hounds,
And like the poor stag on run,
When my horns are stuck in bushes,
They overtake me; accepting no apologies.
How then the humble me,
Ask to be spared the trouble,
And the long niceties exchanged,
Hugging friends every hour,
Greeting them every morning, as if
They are meeting you after ten years.
Will you please untag me, or I will block you,
My both hands joined together, on my knees,
In a namaste ritual, asking forgiveness.