STRANGE ARE YOUR WAYS

The cursor is blinking, on the white screen

Waiting for his words to come within

God please give fast, I am feeling sleepy

Yawning away, eyes dripping, wet and weepy

These words I am typing is just to move on

I want those words, which itself are born

These I am thinking to fill the white space

But the ones with feelings are actually God’s grace

No one will read, my poem tomorrow

I dished up this one, in frustration and sorrow

Is this a poem, looks a tasteless cooked mess

Got to wait, will know, tomorrow morning I guess

They are bound to realize that this is plain trash

Words somehow stuck, like mixed vegetable mash

Whatever be it but the flow is the same

Hey God! I do feel you are playing a game

For I did not edit a single typed word

The words kept coming, not thought of, not heard

Hey! this is a new way, you made me to type

Ha! this is a new way, you chose, to up hype

This too you gave ,this poem also yours

An idiot you made out of me for sure

Strange, you are dear and strange are your ways

You twisted my arms, when you could give straightaway.

17/06/22

India

Photo credit net