That derailing maiden mail

When I just completed my ninth class,
a mailboy stretched a bit of folded paper,
saying it was from that lass.
“ Fool! It isn’t for me.Ask her to whom is it? ”
But he came back and handed it over to me.
With my heart beating aloud, I opened it
and saw: ” To the owner of my love, ”.
Being dazed, I sent it back to her.
My God! It bounced back to tremble me.
I put it into the pocket of my half-trouser,
and went to my garden a kilometre away,
got into our pumpset-room, locked it
and read those three lines several times.
I hadn’t stored in me the database
of the language of love to respond
and make my debut in love.
The next day, I was set on by a hatemail
to derail me and catch me into the web.
Escape seemed impossible for me
and doomed to lose sleep and gain a straying mind.

poem by Rajendran Muthiah
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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