Don’t Count Before Hatching
Who would be there to help me in the end?
When would be those fatal days for my end?
Not to take chances, I extra pleased them:
Aunts and uncles; brothers and sisters;
Sons and daughters; more their children.
Even nieces and nephews were not sprayed.
Friends and neighbours were picked to add in the list.
I did not harvest any seeds I’d sown
As either they left me or I left them.
I pass my end alone in an asylum.
Rm.Shanmugam Chettiar.'s Other Poems
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