Before you read this,you will need to know that i am an engineering student hoping to be a writer someday.




As the dust settles on an ungainly night
I pen my thoughts on a paper once more,
Realizing it’s just another day I’ve spent
Meeting up to expectations the world has bore.

‘With parents to support and a family to raise,
One day you will be a societal man’,
So says the swell of drones
Warning me ‘bout my future clan.

The drones that lead so humdrum lives
I wonder wherein lies their spark,
What awakens them at each sunrise,
What soothes them to sleep in dark.

The thrill of a perfect canvas stroke,
The joy in a note sublime,
The art that gives its patron such bliss,
Can a balance-sheet ever mime?

A parchment will always be happier
If ‘twere dressed with poet’s quills
What grace would that thing ever hold,
If it only showed a banker’s investment perils?

Then a voice intervenes and says,
“The world isn’t run by parchments, you fool,
It’s the drones you despise who run the place
And its money, not art, after which they drool.”

“Get up and go to sleep now, verses won’t bring u money
Get your balances right,only fools pursue serious art”
And I surrender to the voice once more,
Ending the poem with a heavy heart.