And For What I Was There Poem by Gajanan Mishra

And for what I was there,
Knowing all you are charging me.
This is called unfortunate.
You know not what was/is there
Why I am so anxious for light
You know nothing and giving comment.
This is called unfortunate.
You are giving everything
That belong to us and that is
The only knot and yet
You are telling everything is
Okay, think not, nothing to worry.
This is called unfortunate.
Still we are friend and well wishers.
This is called unfortunate.
My air, my food, my dress
My eyes, my ears, my walk
Everything was/is there.
And for that I was/is there.
You are asking to the reason.
This is called unfortunate.