I was born on 26th of December,
I will Die for certain that's a no brainer.
The Muncipality will issue a death certificate is also a given,
And the date will be between January and December, if you give your kind permission.
My family gets delighted, at the Gujarati new year.
They get almost mad and crazy on the day some where at the end of the year.
I have never understood this mass hysteria,
When all their birth, death, marriage certificates bear dates dissimilar.
Yet they are in blind love, lust perhaps is more familiar,
They think they are keepers of culture, on the verge to disappear,
I am blasphemous, to me it seems they made love to a hooker,
Just left cash on her dresser.
I am happy being a idiot, may my ilk die without progeny,
Sperms are not the only vehicles of humanity.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very nice.Time is not anyone's mistress.Lovely!