MURDER OF A POEM

Poetry a new addiction newly caught.

Keeps me well engrossed and behaved with the books I bought.

Maybe I belong to an entirely different stream.

But never the less I have to fulfill my dream.

Though a failure in understanding many poets.

Saw no harm in penning down my own thoughts.

Having no intentions to achieve or gain.

Simply for myself and others to entertain.

Joined a poetic group to see what lies on this side.

With an open heart and nothing to hide.

Regular competitions here announced to attract.

Set my thinking process on with ways to act.

For one such event I picked up my pen.

Ready to take on all , go great guns.

Final product when viewed had crossed all rules.

To match words and lines I took to tools.

Clipping ,cutting and trimming to bring it to shape.

Miserably failing with rulers and tapes.

Half of the feelings were chucked in the bin.

Zero chances now for anything to win.

I could see before my eyes colourful quills flying away.

And the murdered poem a defeathered chicken in tray.

(c)Sunita Grover Raina2021

30/04/21

India

photo credit net