I love the 'eyes' resting on my poems
But hate the too many ‘I’s
Making their loud presence in my write!

I hate their face though
They are now all over the place
As you find right here before your eyes
If the above six lines you read
Two ‘I’s already on this write feed!

Now a good man that I am...
But am I?

Had I been a good man
When the girl bled from her head
I would have seen her wounds stitched
And not think I had office to reach!

Had I possessed a kind heart
(my simplest measure for being a good man)
Seeing a child crying on his own
I would not have thought
The tears were his alone!

Had this body held a loving man
Not of ideas but of action
I would not have hidden behind the skewed logic

*So many stray lives on the street roam
What’s the use of caring for one
And giving it home!