Poetry is rhythmic flow of intense feelings and thoughts


Written By: Mohanchand
 I was young like puppies
Who huddled at the udder
Of an old and cold mother
That huffed and gruffed
When I pulled and tickled
Little innocent puppies.

One day someone told me
That bloody bitch was shot
By an unknown crackpot.
My men’s mercy multiplied
For orphans no rules applied
They scratched me perched on me.

As I grew up I understood
Their politics and gimmicks
Trapping us all by their tricks.
They squabbled like dogs in lane
My men defended always in vain.
Such crooks never they understood.

Among meek lambs puppies survive
On weak minds they breed and thrive.

© Copyright 2011. All Rights Reserved


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