To My Stolen Bike Poem by MOLOY BHATTACHARYA

I
My bike was stolen
Under the sun, from the crowd
From the row stood so many
With many forms and colours
Carrying names and numbers
It brooked the heat, drenched in rain
Needed no mending, never did complain
Only fed oil that kept it well.

II
My bike was stolen
It was like a truant kid
Only three and half old
Always looked fresh and bold
As a friend in need
A time saving pet in deed
New places it drove with me
Whenever I switched on the key.

III
My bike was stolen
The skin was black
But heart was red
They eyed it come and go
Tampered the lock, made no show
Neither sensed pain, nor it yelled
To new hands, it fell a prey
A memory, an absence it left.

(Note: My previous Hero Honda bike, No- WB 42P-4923, was stolen at noon from Burdwan Court Compound on the 28th of March,2014)