Life―
Is a tussle,
a hustle amidst the bustle,
of alternatives and choices,
made worse by
oxy-morons and paradoxes.
A trade-off―
between pros of this and cons of that;
between cons of this and pros of that;
between the safe and the right;
between bank notes and sleep good night;
between what they say I ought to do,
and what I say I want to do.
But I am not one of the fighters;
Just an arbiter of destinies
of fictional characters.
Let me retreat
to the refuge of the world
of make-belief and rosy tints,
of veiled protests and subtle hints,
of safety of my family,
lovingly, warmly and cozily;
Where courage shakes hand with prudence;
Where ambition makes room for convalescence.
Life is a tussle,
a hustle amidst the bustle.
But I am one of the fighters
who armed with ideas and characters
wage war against might and muscle.
I love paradoxes. It has come out beautifully in this poem. But I think there is and should be some bit of Romanticism (sometimes it reaches the metaphysical level, which personally I like, but not necessarily everyone)in evryone's life. I can see that romanticism is not part of the paradoxes that you create: whats obvious in your poetry is reality, the harsh side of it!
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