Like a speck of dust,
of a star — far away —
that still dares to flicker,
rimming the Milky Way!

Like an obscure flower,
intoxicated by it’s own fragrance,
girdled by the ‘great walls’,
that veil it’s glistening petals,
from the wandering eyes that,
know not what they haven’t seen!
And yet the gentle breeze that floats,
goads on it’s unflinching desire
to bloom demurely — one day!

Like a great shayar— in ragged rugs —
penning his inner strife on paper,
stacked up in the dingy closets,
frantically reciting his couplets,
to himself — and the eager walls —
Often nodding longingly —
barely hearing a Wah Wah,
of an accidental gush of breath,
that escaped his parched lips!

Like an orator, a singer, a dancer,
that performs to empty halls!
Like a superstar rehearsing before,
that beloved — “mirror on the wall”!

Like that lone white rhino,,
looking for his soulmate!
Like that pearl in the ocean,
that hasn’t left the oyster!

Like that cursed stone that,
boomerangs back to the ground,
without making a dent,
in the universe — yet again!

Like that faceless shadow,
in the bustling crowd,
That lived and toiled,
and eventually died,
And it did not — and it did not —
matter — at — all !

— Jatinder Singh , the lousy poet

© Written 17-Oct-2017

{ Back Story: This poem was written in a response to a question – “How does it feel to be a lesser known writer?” }

{ Picture Credit: Night, Sky, Galaxy by Greg Rakozy (@grakozy) }