Wish Poem by RUP POKHAREL

Wanting the things of need
Years I lived, that’s my funeral;
On alms I’m reared,
On alms my life routine;
My muscular arms and wit paralyzed.

Are my live wishes;
Let me walk on my feet-miles,
Let me kiss the lofty peaks
On my, albeit, bare feet.
I prefer free walk and work,
To guided tracks and served feeding.
I prefer make threads and then weave,
To provided clothes over torso.
I prefer tiny homely hut of own,
To rented and paid-duplex.

For wanting the things of need
Years I lived, that’s my funeral.

I cry unseen tears in spate and deluge,
Albeit, laurels smile from caged files,
Muscles jerk, brain murmurs…
Wish longs- Let me smile on my death bed;
Salute my valediction in ease,
To let my great small nation’s fertile tomorrow.