Because They Bother: Scraps Of Worries Poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
Because They Bother: Scraps Of Worries
Hand
A few playful beaking from him
And I remember
Did not soap the dirt off my hand!
Here I stand
Bothered
Praying
My parrot doesn’t get an infection.
Head
Because it bothers
Low I stoop
To pen about bird poop!
On my way from office
Fell the hit-never-miss.
Finding no dried leaf
I used my handkerchief
And verified from a stranger
There wasn’t a stain!
Bird poop is a bane.
So they said
Is the chance my head
Would soon be bereft of hair
Quite unfair!
Here I stand
Bothered
Praying
The few remaining don’t leave me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/2/2024 12:19:23 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Oh, you poor man! The bird took aim and did not miss the target. And so it became a poem. Lucky for us, brought many smiles!