The race begins as we come to this earth;first breath,first heart beat.
The body defense mechanism struggling every second to be alive.
Learning to walk,speak,think and act.
We all learn to act among the people in live life drama.
Duplicate smile wearing mask and hiding own identity.
Dealing with people,community socially but trying to get profit at every angle and corner.
Struck-up,hanged-up in web of culture,race,customs,tradition,laws and rules.
All the things only to serve the needs of food,cloth and shelter.
Struggling for existence,survival of fittest.
Moving to the god’s movements like threaded puppets.
There is no fucking option its a game no escape.
Sometimes i think why god needs to take enjoyment with this bloody ‘show of creation’ of us.
No questioning of these axioms but to accept.
If god gets bored of your show he crushes you dead and quits your ‘life’named game.
Lucky are those whom he takes to height.
But there are unfortunate in whose miseries he finds his pleasure.
But I belive ‘I Am God’s Chosen One’
When i stop this mocking rhyme i too will continue the same as above.
The show must go on. . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Submitted by Shishir.

Tags: | Category: Life Poems

Leave a comment