No Option Poem by Subrata Ray
No Option
Compulsion to accept
and bear the tenor,
burdened on you by birth,
else forgo and wipe.
You have to afford,
either provided or not,
you are caught between
the jaws of life and death.
Aspirations for sunny days,
and evading the clouds,
in senses' appetite roll.
You grow and grow and then old
and turn into a black-hole.
Monday, May 4, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: painful
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5/6/2024 1:48:10 PM # 1.0.0.1119
