Feel The Psychic Rock Poem by Rajendran Muthiah

You get squeamish if I speak negative thoughts.
Neither I awe at thy love nor I cry your hate.
You think of my mind suffering from hopeless lots
and know not lovers from places strange meet by fate.

Before the burst of spring of love in the heart
they speak with no love to thousands of their folk.
From tempting events by God's grace they depart
without being the preys of the psychic rock.

The youths now seek in your heart a small space
and being assured coerce you for cash next.
You give your priceless wealth with a shameless face
and leave soon to weep in quiet being vexed.

Like coconuts wonderful feel of love you break
and from the deep of your wrecked heart emanates the reek.