A Writer, A Poet And An Editor, A Critic, A Teacher

A writer reads the poetry of other writers, with the flair of a poet

He enjoys their poetry. With his emotions as a poet

He can never become a editor

Who reads, a poet’s poetry as a critic

And give marks on their poetry as a teacher

They turn the writer’s poetry of imagination

Into a symbol of school exam, by giving them marks

A writer, a poet, do not walk on a single beaten track

Only then do they make a new legend from their imagination

And make a necklace, from the pearls of their words

An editor, a critic, a teacher, keep reciting, a, b, c, d

Time and time again for a life time

A writer, a poet reads the words of other poets,

From the essence of their own imagination and poetic romanticism

An editor, a critic, a teacher, reads the writings of writers

With the intent of looking at the writer as a student

Who needs to be disciplined as per their wish

From the fear of their cane

A critic, a teacher, is always busy in correcting the grammar

A writer, a poet, only wants to live in the flourish of their imagination

A writer, a novelist, dwells in his fairyland world, of imagination

A poet, dwells in his world, of romanticism

An editor, dwells in his world, of putting the society in order

A critic, dwells in his world, of making the world order, by his rules

A teacher, dwells in his world, of disciplining his students

They all enjoy the fruits they sow , in their own world

And point fingers at each others world

They do not like the fruit laden trees, of the world of others, other than their own

But still, they sing like parrots, the songs of the world of others

An editor, a critic , give marks to dreams , by seeing them as exam

Because they don’t fathom , the power of imagination

A writer, a poet, are mesmerized by their world of imagination

An editor, a critic, a teacher, just remain summarized in their world of reality

An editor, a critic, a teacher just see the world from the mirror, of bitter lies and bitter truth

A writer, a poet, see and hear the world from the songs of the nightingale

You make, a writer, a poet, a student of a school, taking an exam, by giving him marks

For his imagination, for his dreams, for his romanticism, for his poetry

A writer, a poet, an editor, a critic , a teacher

All part, of the same full moon, moonlight, that brighten the night, on a clear sky

Living their own lives, in their own poetic measure

Living in their own worlds, that give them pleasure

Love, is not a mean thing, it is a passion, for one and all

Jai Hind