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 May 2014 Eposia
Himanshi
The Woodpecker sings,
In a tune we don't follow.
Pecking endlessly,
Like there is no tomorrow.

Words drawn from the heart,
Lost in the long beak.
With piercing eyes,
A little attention it seeks.

Pauses a second to tell us,
The story of his mother's pain.
Forgets not the cragged branch,
Chisels hard, the Woodpecker again.

Oblivious about the emotions it brings,
Endlessly the Woodpecker sings.
Written while taking an exam.

— The End —