I have a book in my hand
But dont seem to comprehend.
So, I look out of window
And discover grass and meadow.
They are not supposed to be here
It is summer, how they dare.
They grow so profusely
Standing against all odds
Have they forgotten
The law of Lords.
Summer is harsh
There must be no marsh
Greenery would wilt
Rivers would silt.
Leaving everything high and dry
Making life scream and cry.
But from my corner window
I do see grass and meadow.
I rub my eyes
And look with a sigh.
To see if its a mirage
Or am I seeing something large.
Is it a poster?
To announce another roaster.
Or is it my imagination gone wild
Giving me Hallucinations ever so mild.
Even if it is not real
Let it persist.
It gives me some comfort
So, I insist.
Life is dull and so is season
Dry and lull without a reason.
Sometimes I wish to die
Then with a jerk
I call it a lie.
I am a fighter
I will fight till end.
Till Heavens support
And enemies bend.
He will favour me
That I know.
Its only a matter of time
Come hail or snow.
Till then, I will look
Out of my window.
And be happy to see
The grass and meadow.
Standing tall
Without any stall
Face difficulties with smile
Make problems run away mile
It is easy to preach
and tough to follow.
But I would not teach
And remain hollow.
It is my life
And I will enjoy
Be content
And satisfied.
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