From The Diary Of A Loser Poem by Arvind Srivastava

My wise friends have sidelined me

They think that
I copy the poems of Ashtabhuja Shukla
That I don't love the earth
I pretend to love it
And sell my pain
With great cunning
My resistance is coming to an end
My intelligence is fading
I am just a polisher of dull images
In my poems
Words have deserted me
I am a loser
Like a poet who has been repeatedly driven out of the gathering
Like a rusty bicycle and an old coat
Confined in a trunk!

© Arvind Srivastava, India