Verse That Could Not Be Worse - Poem by Biswajit Basu
I sit at my writing table,
While the world spins round and round,
Why does the world discard me with the label,
That I am mentally unsound?
That is a long story, my friend,
But I'll tell you as briefly as I can,
It all started when I was born,
As a complete full grown man.
A moustache and beard, I did sport,
And six-pack muscles too,
Somehow my mom did not me abort,
Or pack me off to the zoo.
I went to school on a bus,
Where other children drove me mad,
I dabbled in differential calculus,
While two and two they could not add.
My father seeing me a misfit in school,
Sent me off to work,
There co-workers called me a fool,
And a bloody no-good shirk.
So I sat under an old banyan tree,
Like Buddha sought the Light,
As luck would have it a dog on me did pee,
I must have been quite a sight.
My father racked his woolly head,
I was really breaking his heart,
How could I tell him I was up with him fed,
And I had been hit by Cupid's dart.
He walked angrily to and fro,
Shouting "Get on with your life"
I told him there was one way I could grow,
If only I got me a wife.
His eyes flashed and angrily rolled back,
He put me to the whip
He beat me within an inch of my life,
Was I really off the old block, a chip?
"A six year old", he screamed at me
Is that the age to marry,
Stroking my beard, I said "Don't you see,
There is no time to tarry".
I ran away from home, a three foot ass,
To find me a winsome bride,
And finally I found a tall six foot lass,
And out of happiness I cried.
We got married but it was just as I feared,
Soon came a bonny boy,
Fully equipped with a moustache and beard,
And I laughed at the irony in joy.
Now as a three foot soul, I think of life
Which has indeed turned out sad,
I have to contend with a six foot wife
And my son is a bearded lad!
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