Food and hunger go wasted

Cheep is she, who I can get.
But to get access, my pride forbids.
The other is worthy to befriend.
But to get her, her pride forbids.
The withered fruits lie unpicked.
The hanging fruits are untouched.

The fruits are in decay.
My hunger is in dismay.
6.11.2000, pmdi

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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