For The Taste Of Truth Poem by Ravinder Kumar Soni

Come, man, come
What kinda khichadi you have cooked today
Without rice, dal, onions and salt
And you have served it in a plate, given me an empty plate
What do you take me for - a big fool
An idiot, a dunce and what not
O man, you should take care of me
I have been had by your words neck to toes
By my scruff lift me up
You cannot puncture me with your sharp claws
Look at yourself in the mirror
You seem to have tasted the lamb stew I cooked
I made you feel glad, No
This is how you treat a jigri dost
Learn it now, learn it fast
All depends on how you speak and what you taste