<≪≪≪≪ Poems

Poems are not the fleshy, juicy, tasty fruits Of the trees, fat and tall, grown only In the backyards in the fertile land of your garden That I have to buy those In whatever shapes and sizes you sell But they are the products I produce too In a large scale In the factory situated at the back of my mind In many colors, Shapes and sizes With different fragrance and taste May be they are different than the stuffs You are habitually use to sniff Whatever I make in my thought machine And bake in my heart and mind I never mean them to be eaten Or to be used as you use oil Take them like paintings Read, listen and get delight If they are too good keep them in shelf Or hang them on wall Composition of poems is like crafts Of any other arts There is nothing serious in them that One has to believe everything.