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A bag of air!
A bag, that is filled with air,
Once torn, the life is gone.
Liters of cream to polish,
Boxes of moisturizers to nourish,
Bottles of cleansers to clean,
Plates of food to fuel,
Beds of roses to roll,
Napkin of thorns to wipe,
Blanket of sorrow to hide,
Misty prestige to upkeep,
A loaned place to leave,
Faulty titles to own and address,
A bag that is filled with air,
Once torn, the life is gone.
When the plate is too hot,
it will be dropped, as we drop.
poem
by
Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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