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Comments about sivakumar krishnaprasad
Crossed the scorching summers
And the pleasant mild winters
On the rickety wheels of life
Ploughing through love and strife
The wheels left the trodden tracks
On to clear roads with out cracks
Faster did they turn while the tires burned
Assimilating information more than interned
Hit, push, post and chat, to me are demeaning
Words remain the same, but not their meaning
Apples, berries still grow on trees
But speak of them to show your stature
Not any more as products of nature
People plan their lives for some thing...