Prosaic
“Do an ode to the poets” asked he,
“Let beautiful words entwine.”
“Me; a poem??… hmm… like Apple and orange!”
was my creation’s first line.
For the second, I wandered lonely as a cloud
for miles and miles before falling asleep;
Through roads less (actually never!) taken by-
How could one not weep!
Next day he checked
“Hmm…why are lines not phonetically rhyming?”
“Tis’ no use. I’m prosaic!”
Blurted my mouth, whining.
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P.S. If you seem to notice that this piece is an amalgamation of lines copied from works of great
bards, then rub off any such inclinations. I was just ‘inspired’ from them.
Ohkkk… fine… they are copied.
At least appreciate that I did go through them sometime during my life & still remember them.
P.P.S. Any resemblance of the above-mentioned ‘he’ to the Editor in terms of mannerisms is not
a co-incidence and purely intentional.
Nikhil Mehta
2891, Batch of ‘11