None But I Myself Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

None but I myself tore it, the jeans pants
To give it the look of patches and darns,
Stitches and joints
To make it look like the faded jeans.

The colour faded it not,
But we made it look so
As for becoming, tired of modernity, ultra-modern
And hence looking for a way out

And as a result of that,
The face looks wrinkled even in spiral days,
The young girl looks old
And the old looks young.

Where have we come to,
Where are we going to,
As the pants and the tight shirt you see
Adjust with not?

In the spring,
Hairs seem to have started whitening
And falling
And I dyeing excessively to look coloured.

None but I myself tore my pants
To look it tattered and battered,
None but I myself
For to be modernistic.