Akash Sagar

“rhyming From A Shoe’s Shoe”. - Poem by Akash Sagar

I have walked miles on efficient spaces,
Have burnt myself in three Summers;
And also got frozen thrice under icy Winters,
Ooh…! I am an old man now;
Ageing to last for 36 months and still breathing.
But a reluctant ignorance these days,
Hesitantly makes my paranoia to wait,
For my accidental suicide someday,
Someday, when I would get torn off;
And worn out to be thrown;
To decay and die, someday...
Get buried and cradled in the neighboring dustbin.

Ooh..! I still remember,
My God happily paying a dowry of five Grands,
So arduously earned Gold coins of those days.
To buy and get me laid;
To break the virginity of my pure sole.
A pure sole back then,
Apparently, a poor Soul now;
Plainly wishes for my serving legacy to continue,
Continuing in my God…
And all other upcoming Gods’ kind donation.

Can never forget those 6 soaked months,
Going against the Dr. Cobbler’s healthy advice;
When the God and me got completely drenched,
And sinfully stamped to crush,
Few innocent paper boats unknowingly.
It must be because of that heinous curse,
Given on that rainy day;
By that crying kid in Monsoon’s porch;
For those two and half finely sewn threads of mine,
Had left my body yesterday.

And I hesitantly wait for my accidental suicide very soon,
Someday my doomsday under no Moon;
When I would get completely torn;
And badly worn out to be utterly thrown out;
To decay and die,
Get buried and cradled in the neighboring dustbin.

Thoughts poured:
@ 13: 55 Hours
Dated As On 26th Nov’ 2014
All Rights Reserved © by Akash Sagar

Topic(s) of this poem: abstract

Form: Prose Poem

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Poem Submitted: Monday, March 9, 2015

Poem Edited: Monday, March 9, 2015

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