What I do? no one cares;
This list consists of my name too.
Earned so many stares;
Aiming at me from everywhere.
Am I the weird one, I don't think so;
Even if you do, I will not know.
Powder sprinkled all my dresser;
Coffee circles all my study table;
Half-moon bags all around my eyes;
Sometimes heavy, but I don't care.
Can you spell 'clean'
What is that? I don't know.
Many many diets to be lean
But the next moment,
It vanishes like a high-soaring bubble.
All my works, half-way through;
Chill-out, the burger on its way
Now got two things to manage,
What should I do?
Anyway, it's not my fault
Because the size given to me is 'Clumsy Fit'
Friday, March 5, 2021
Topic(s) of this poem: baby,lazy,carelessness,kind,beautiful
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
Sometimes life is on a highway but we can never travel in it, yet we reach our destination by some other clumsy way, so what that is our 'life'