Oh, Lord how to react to my elders?
How to pay gratitude to all my readers?
What a hidden well wishers they are?
I was pushed simply very far
How could I dispel their feelings?
Was I ever ready or willing?
How can well knit organization be left?
How can there be overnight shift?
I misjudged the reader's mood
Poetry is just tonic and food
It has divine infusion with great thrust
We all must pray almighty for its preservation and is must
I shall stay and must continue
Must give to larger audience whatever is their due
What is their in appreciation or condemnation
It is permanent bond and solidly laid foundation
Let each brick carry its own weight
Then only building can gain its height
The stone at the base can see with honor and pride
I must uphold this view and never hide
They are not seized with domestic problems
But disgruntled with happenings around them
Some of the poems may not appeal them earnestly
This is a normal cause and I must admit it frankly
If all the pots made by potters find the way
Not a place in market will be left to stay
Some poems may find applaud and appreciation
Others may go down with displeasure and condemnation