Of great heart-ed generous folks like you
No poem has a second draft,
Till someone points out with intentions true

Yes I give due credit too.

That I am really not adept,
At the finesse of writing,
Imaginary and metaphorical poetry,
Is known to me

Why can't we call a spade,
a spade?
It’s bothering me.
Why should I say moon,
When I mean your face
And
Why should I condemn you,
Just to field a gloomy face.

Do tell me….

Millions are there to compose,
Mostly all such poetry
To the garbage bin of time,
They all, yes many dispose.

Poetry has outlived its value today,
Yet poets dead and gone
Like Shakespeare,
In the hearts of mankind will stay