Feb 29, 2012


I get irritate frequently,
as short of time don't let me do poetry.
The words, which runs before work,
the work which chases my word.
Irregular in blogging,
Instantaneous work is jogging.
I am short of words,
Files piled up with work.
Like a leaning Tower of Pizza,
about to fall,
Papers will fly out of work,
half of them will be crap
and more will be Poetry.


(Sorry for irregular blogging)