S U I C I D E...... Poem by RAVIKIRAN ARAKKAL

He was dead as a mackerel,
Consuming the poison
In the bottle that lay nearby,
The reason not known,
But iit was the love
That he did not get from
Anyone nearabout him,
Of what kind does not matter,
Now that he has expired,
For the love he wanted
Would not have costed
Anyone anything,
But yet none spent or gave it
To him, for which his heart
Ached for a long tome,
And made the poor man
End his own life not for
Much reason mentionable,
On the earth where life is so cheap,
And words and love
Is supposedly costlier,
To be used in more frequency.


Rav ikiran arakkal