Amann Aroraa

(28 March 1993 / New Delhi)

Where art thou creativity?


Trapped and wrapped in pretty packets,
Wielded well by corporate rackets;
Everything ready-made offers the bazaar,
Bargains with my creativity every hour.

Directing me, the man-made machines,
Monitoring my mind by their reins;
Instructing me to work faster,
I am a slave, turned out of a master.

Alien to fragrance of a flushed flower,
And the spark of a seasoned shower;
Dispatched from Mother Nature's touch,
Seeks my creativity another crutch.

Submitted: Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, January 29, 2013
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Poet's Notes about The Poem

Curse of technology age, our over-dependency on machines and henceforth moving away from creativity and nature.

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