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An Angry Mother!

Spiking is cruel, when I come to your home,
I have observed the wicked smile in every Rome,
Over the years I have gone feeble, but look strong,
my numbing nerves send the signals wrong.

Mixed with solvent not to get detected quicker,
Solids can be added to add some more flavor,
Served in the beautiful cups to get distracted,
Spiking becomes everyday occurrence yet to be noted.

Bees never spiked me to build their hives to save honey,
Birds may dip their beaks; but never break the rules of nature,
The greens obedience must be emulated, the treacherous,
Are the human, who have spiked me for momentous pleasures.

They call me mother to nourish my emotion to cheat me further.
They call me lonely to make me depressed to play with my treasures.
They call me generous, as I still have precious 20km high breathing air,
Whatever they flatter, my anger can't be contained in the earthen Jar.

poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Added by Poetry Lover
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