by adhip ghosh
Born of an unmarried mother,a boy
Tastes the bitter rice of life to heart's fill,
Snatching,raping,dacoiting in no coy,
That lead him after all to grind the mill
Of a prison cell,downright doomed,forlorn,
For the free sky above beckoned him there,
As birds flapped and flattered there fair,
In boundless freedom and joys ever long.
The warden studied him and discovered
That the boy,if given chance and sundered,
Could run a Marathon to outshine all,,
For he would never run the race at all,
He would only escape from the jail's guard,
Which alone would compensate all his fall.
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Genius aumes no fixed colour
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- April 5, 2010 10:05 pm
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