Who Calls Me Poem by Ravinder Kumar Soni

‘Who calls me? '
There was the shuffling of feet
Just below my open window,
I looked out the night was still young,
I could not make out who stood and called,
He needed me,
I must attend to him, I thought.
I went downstairs to open the door
He stopped me, did not let me open the door.
‘You need not know who I am,
I am here to help cool your overworked mind,
You have been writing too many
So-called poems that hardly anyone reads
Or notices.
Don't do this. Apply your mind elsewhere.
Spare the members of the PoemHunter fraternity
They are a tortured lot.'
I kept quiet.
I knew it was time for me to give up writing.
I closed the door to my mind.