Writer Kshitij Shokeen

Category Poem

Abstract Author tries to condense his life so far into the poem

The sobriety of a phone addict,
The purest intentions of a crime convict,
The illogical hope of an optimist,
The words a million and all its gist.
It's all based on a puny dot,
A dot that's so small, you think it's not.
A dot we often refuse to see,
The dot we rarely wish to be.
For being that puny little dot is tough,
At the same time, it's just enough,
To know everything worth to know,
You just need yourself to throw,
Into not what you see and need,
But just in that one puny seed.
The seed that you long ignored,
The seed that you have not matured,
The seed that's life in itself,
The seed that's left in your worldly heft.