The Man who became a Boy
They see in me a criminal, a sadistic don Holding guns and driving car with blaring horn Pie eyed, puffing smoke and killing on the roadside Cough! Cough! Not true that thee-a Matricide. Aye! But, still a boy liking to lick that ice-cream, Chase my maiden until into my ear she does scream. Bath in the pool till dusk with a twinkle in my eye, Splash water on mother, before she understands ‘why’ I sit in my lonely room, better in my solitude, Counting unknown days with withering fortitude. Oblivious of day or night, of rain or shine Waiting for food with a metal plate, now entirely mine! The door creaks with a faint voice speak; “Ye, last sunset today”, his words so bleak. I look at my metal plate, my only possession And it tosses a frosty and ugly reflection. Repent! Repent! Not to splash water on mother! Not to chase my lovely maiden in the moor! But to have killed not one but many, ...