PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

It’s me!

‘Ben’, my name; that’s by what, I’m being called;

And you got to know, how I got it when born;

Parents loved to call me ‘Ben’ as they found it nice and fun;

And so, they fixed up a Sunday to christen me;

Oh, then, the church mass proved to be awfully terrible;

For I kicked and cried when the priest sprinkled water on head;

‘Wouldn’t catch a cold’, though I didn’t know, I still refused.

Nevertheless, I relished my name when uttered by others around.

Thence, I grew ever so naughty and people wouldn’t accept;

For, at the age of seven I pelted a stone at play

That tainted my playmate’s forehead to everyone’s dismay.

I still find the scar quite visible and deep

Both on that playmate’s forehead and in mind.

Aversion to teachers as bookworms they treated,

Made me hate my studies and those, ever forceful-masters.

Otherwise, it could have been a youngsters probing delight.

An adult I grew, thinking, ‘Ignorance is bliss’.

Oh then, I loved and lost, most willingly;

My fiancé thought I was too quick tempered and too hard to handle.

When relationship began to fall apart, we parted as pals;

Here am I!  As a facilitator, still advocating goodness,

Stressing on straight-forwardness and truthfulness of men.

Oh! I got a different yard stick and an assessment of my own;

For I want others to be too good, but not me.

I reckon, it’s too difficult to control my nerves for I’m rigid;

People call me ‘beast’ as and when I let go off my wrath

What if, I still remain unchanged even if I were to fall?

Reaching my destiny, I suppose, I’d have to forego.

No matter what others take me to be and brand me;

I know, it’s me and I got to be just the ‘Ben’ of the same DNA!

Never, never, never for heaven sake, don't assasinate your character,

For it's a God given one and you got to be what you are.