The beloved and the wife
I aimed at a fruit.
Some one had got it.
I was in pain, not in anger.
I shall wait to have it
If and when it is left over,
Or given by bits.
On the other hand,
I had a fruit.
Someone stealthily bit.
I threw away,
Not with pain, but with anger.
Not to have anymore,
If returned as reformed.
Why are two standards-
Prodigal beloved and prodigal wife?
Claim of ownership is the cause
25.05.2002, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Added by Poetry Lover
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