Cry of the man
Not that I had none
Or that bad is mine,
I want your toy.
Not that mine is broken
Or that it is slackened,
I want your toy.
Not that yours is rare
Or that it is super,
I want your toy.
That yours is strange
And in your range,
I want your toy.
Not for an exchange
But for a change,
I want your toy.
Lest you should covet
I shall keep a vigil
Over my own toy.
I can’t elope with yours.
I can’t abduct it.
Yet I want your toy.
You won’t spare it.
You won’t sell it.
Still I want your toy.
Let me play behind.
You lost no joy.
You lost no toy.
It is the cry of man
in ethics ridden clan.
00.06.97
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Added by Poetry Lover
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