My Name Poem by Aniruddha Pathak
My Name
As given with great fuss it once came,
With any a name though I'd be same.
Now in course of long time
Wonder, if worth a dime,
That in dust of habit hangs its frame,
And comes an argument
Hard to win gent to gent,
They call me still with a vilest name.
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Reflections | 03.12.16 |
Hard to win gent to gent/They call me still with a vilest name...the whole thing of this amazing Limerick lies with the two lines! Well penned sir...10
Thank you Dr Swain for your feedback. There is nothing in name and fame. The best thing to do is to treat them as game, you play and then forget. And as I said in another poem, we leave this all with open palms, nothing whatsoever with us, not even the points earned at PH.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/6/2024 12:32:45 AM # 1.0.0.1119
As given with great fuss it once came, With any a name though I'd be same......fantastic beginning with a lofty theme. A great write.10
Thank you Kumarmani Mahakul, this makes two of the popular poets endorsing it.