SUCKY POETS SOCIETY

we thot we would always be raindogs

trying to find our way on the streets

all we wanted was a shade

in to rest when it rained heavily

under the temple bell, or the thick peepal tree 

or in the corner of a crowdy busstop

for as long as we wasnt driven out 

all we wanted was some stranger with a kindly heart

to leave his uneaten bread for us….

tomorrow was another life

a story unimagined, unheard of

if it rained the next day heavily

we either got wet or hid

under a thick peepal tree

one day we woke up rainbirds

we found that we could fly

we had to find supper for ourselves

though we roamed the skyline of the city

and not the muddy sidewalks

but we knew in our helpless hearts

that whenever it rained heavily

we must make our way back to the nest

our only nest, in the thick of a peepal tree