Trim and mow the lust.

Lust is grass, rooted in blood.
Trim it and mow it to a lawn.
Grow it for a fodder or
Let it die on its own soon.
Don’t pluck it or uproot it.
Then you will become barren.
03.10.2010

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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