The Target Of A Compass Poem by Ajay Seshadri

It strikes you as odd that you would have to be told

This blade of ungreen grass pricks my throat

You bleed from the hurt that you cause me
The island that was made equal gets submerged.

You shiver of the fever that you shudder to see
I fret and burn over the fever that you cause me,
We cannot share the pain for the two are afloat
That is the only feature of our hopes.

Try encircle your region if you can but without me
I am not your compass so you'd have to find one,
I am not your paper that you may use'n restrict
Circles are not the only geometric shapes around!

I won't let your rules you apply blow out my ears
You cannot slide without distinct points don't try!
I choose my harbours for values they are worth
You choose yours and I am the least bothered!