Altered! ! Poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi

there is a stampede in the gap,
between the pillars and the top,
the voice of these feathered souls,
heard through day and still night,

The fatty fascicles always on alert,
learning is not the process, but the nature,
what is our contribution to infantile adventure,
when the grape eyes capture every detail,

Have you painted the sky with orange cue,
to cry for the leftovers that is not due,
Have you dyed the sky in light blue,
then why do you long and weep as a babe?