Alien to me is mad race for avarice
As I don't count on fast buck
That comes quick is to leave fast
My consolation comes from this fact.
Neither do I fit into any static set
For the fire in my blood is in full might
And not to trek thro' shady path
Else get stuck with awful filth.
Misfit will I be in all partying groups
Though my nerves are arid
With thirst to drink up the ocean, but
Squander not a penny, don't call me stingy.
I may not be part of elite crowd any
For I cannot invest time in vanity
Rather I would mingle with my shadow quiet
Never mind, take me for an introvert.
I'm the odd one in every posh lounge, not a lie
I won't be wearing an overcoat or tie,
Not stride on the slippery marble floor
The shoes I wear are torn, no fear of fall!
I may miss elegant front rows always
My attire may not be at par.
Don't mock at me my comrades; Believe
I swear, I stand out this way! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem