Do Not Scratch Me Poem by sehdev sharma

I am the purest form of God; s creation.
You always say that I am the best.
I am the spotless masterpiece.
I give birth to kings and poor too.
I take the monthly pains of my body.

But where ever I go,
In bus,
In restaurant,
In office,
At home,
Why?

You scratch my body,
through your lascivious deeds,
Your lusty looks.

In the evening,
I dont think,
I am master piece.

Of course,
I am the best creation of thy,
But fully scratched,
by the end of,
Day