THE YOUTH RUTH..

I walk by the woods,
Tracing the squirrel’s path along the stretch of hazel.
It goes hopping chomping its way through the nuts,
Gleeing, delighted with contentment.
Did I ever look like that??
Did I ever feel so contented??...

Dreams made out of expectations,
Aspirations fuelled by competition,
With the underlying fear of being the blot on the escutcheon.
Jealousy playing the backstairs influence,
And emotions getting the back seat.
“I HAVE TO win” overrules “I CAN win”.
Trying to reach the acme,
Blowing hot and cold in the battle of life,
Affectations and fraudulence being the weapons,
Succumbing to the lures Life offered then.

I stand lonely in the woods,
With all kinds of opulence registered in my name.
After paying the price of my juvenescence,
My efforts seeming as sand-ploughing,
When I stand as voiceless as a tomb here,
With no one to talk to….
With nothing to talk about…..



-Sharbanee Prusty
3rd Sept,2008