Disposable Writings
We find many writings daily
Including ours; but how many
Are read? Fed up, many readers
Not even glance through most;
Disposable Writings are they giving
Pleasure only to the creator; neither fellow Writers nor critics care for these creations;
Still why so many works get poured and
Writers, poets, fiction-writers, novelists
Continue creating? Is it a compulsive 'disorder', That engulfs the literary creators? May be
Order and disorder continue following each
Other for Eternity; meanwhile languages are
Learnt, hearts and minds get inspired and
Express; without expecting any reward, recognition or return; human nature is
Above money-making; transcends all
Appreciations, indifference or insinuations;
Writers are Divine in making and creation
So only writings pour in, disposable or distinct
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem