Oh Dear Word-Painter Poem by Santosh Misra

OH DEAR WORD-PAINTER

Oh Dear word-painter!
Be a bit careful
Whiling painting the sketch of my poverty.
No doubt I am a cursed soul
In the noble arcade
Always in a better approximation
to all dividant wills.
Blended in an innocent look
from an isolated dungeon.

Nothing is at my reach
No food, no shelter, no clothes
And always agree to a state of
quick compromise.
I feel armed with Smiling Hugs
While my stress
Prefers quitting any battle
For my smiling lips.

I squeeze my desires
Matching with
The Universal Doctrine
The less is the Desire, the less is the Pain,
In lieu of a sweet smile
of course most non-malignant andsoft,
as the add-ons to your colorful canvass.
As such you may win the Dollars
But not the Kingship, the choreographer of my fate
In my non-exalted state.

Oh Dear Word-painter!
Please draw me as the King of my cursed land
With my artillery of love and smiles around
Always ready to fight
To cross all the dividing lines.
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