Monkeys in Moon
Just a few lucky monkeys could be at moon
And to be one among them was your boon;
It’s real, they said, humans may come soon,
And to pluck fruit before them, be a goon.
The minion’s whisper of secret polemic numbed
My senses! I woke up looking sanity thumbed
A future for reposing ambition in me; it drummed
My sleep away; away gone life, to hell succumbed.
One morning, from my tall portico hung my fife;
People stopped to talk of bygone tales of strife,
And the town stifled my bio and it became rife,
With legends, myths and filth; they felled my life.
And then I found monkeys in life, real monkeys,
Monkeys with more and more polemics, like junkies.
And then truth dawned; hadn’t I reared monkeys
In my heart for riches I wouldn’t be with monkeys.
6/14/2015
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem