The Interview Poem by Vishorag Shadja

Disheveled and unkempt was my room and hair…
I have to surely attempt to clean-up my lair.

Rudderless and aimless was that whole week,
Chances of me succeeding was quite bleak.

Getting up lazily, I tidied my hair and room,
Rushed with vigor and towel,into bathroom.

Getting ready fast,I re-imagined my day,
Which was utterly and totally in disarray.

Remembering to answer every question,
Trying hard I recite every section.

Skipping breakfast I run to the stop,
With a screeching sound, bus comes to a halt.

I reach the venue quick -on the dot,
To the company resembling Arthur's Camelot.

I answer every question without fail,
Without missing even a single detail.

Portraying myself big and versatile,
I reply quickly with a wise smile.

I walk back with a grin on my face,
With happiness and glowing grace.

I knew I had secured the job,
Hearing my quiet heart insanely throb.

The life that I thought was in disarray,
Felt as if I could easily breakaway.

Running my hands through my hair,
Disheveled or unkempt - I didn't care…