A Note Full Of Scribbles..

Can't roll on the bed,
when the feeling gets on.
Touch that part,
that plays the tart.

sometimes swollen,
otherwise shrunk.
sometimes full,
otherwise dull.

sometimes jumping,
and pushing up.
otherwise rumbling,
and crushing down.

sometimes we curse ourselves,
to look for it on our own.
otherwise we curse the world,
for turning us down.

sometimes it happens,
when we overeat and burp.
otherwise it happens,
when we are in poverty.

sometimes we do not realize,
how gifted we are.
otherwise it is a known fact,
that we are abandoned and dirt poor.

poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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