Just read the first line of my poem
And if you don’t feel like reading
The lines that follow, then maybe
Bin it; it isn’t worth the trouble.
At the end of poem, if you see
Only me in the poem and not you;
Forget the poem; it is only a soliloquy.
If the poem doesn’t leave a thought
To carry; A line that reverberates
A piece of nature or love for the world;
Trash it; it is only a heap of words.
If you are still persistent, I am afraid
Something is seriously wrong with you.
Get checked by a good psychiatrist.
If you are sane and still want to carry on,
Then use a heavy sledgehammer;
To break the beautiful rhyme that
I cunningly knit into the words to create
All those ripple in the surface;
Also put it to good use to break
The feet thumping in the rhythm of words
Created to cover up my poetic weaknesses.
Please powder all the beautiful words;
Set in the right place
To hide my filthy mind.
Throw the powder in the furnace of truth.
If you see everything going up in smoke,
Then, throw my pen in the furnace.
All the spoken words are not meant to be heard.
It is better to be silent than to be an imposter.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem