Walking Down The Last Lane! Poem by PARTHA SARATHI PAUL

Knapsack that hugs my upper back
Is the buddy-stash of bugging undoing!
So long! I`m gonna team up with the dolt broke!
The fear of being a loser will chase nevermore.
It haunted me long like a creepy stalker!

No hopes never now will run in a curvy graph!
Deflated tube stands no risk of puncture.
Loitering about the duffer-smart earth
Will take some break in one stuffy corner.
A unique intermission like a pot-smoker!

Pressed tight against a wall gives more freehand!
Blows, kicks or thrush…anything would go.
If all tries go in smoke, bruised mind will ache
Any may cry hard to the deaf air and the blind sky!
A beggar is neither a chooser nor a loser.