A Saint In The Making! Poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi

I wanted to be a monk, giving up all pleasure,
I wear a robe perfect to fit a tourist in leisure,
The taste of the food identified by the buds,
The smell through the nose touched by the skin,
Looking at the human, the feelings still erupts,
I have nothing to own and call it mine,
The car that I travel and the comfort that I have,
Starched robes with a belt and a skull cap,
I am a monk and have given up all worldly tortures,
I am a priest at the altar, serving the God and the people,
My desires are bottled up not given up,
My ambition to be an arch bishop,
I have my gangs to vote out my opponents,
I will be a saint in the future, beautified in Vatican.