Soul’s propeller

An infant craves for strokes.
A child craves for attention.
An adolescent craves for recognition.
An adult craves for identity.
An old one craves for gratitude.
A dead one craves for visiting as ghost.
Craving is the soul’s propeller.
11.09.05

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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