He said

It is neither a poem

Nor a confession

The clues were many to be noted

Recurring themes of

Adolescence mingled with

Visuals of the rustic life

It is neither confession

Nor recital of yester years

Stolen cigarettes

Cycled distances

Missed classes

Unending talk show

New found friends

Making of a philosopher

Holding head high,

Confidence in every walk

The boy was not me but the generation

It is neither a poem nor a confession

Flowers, skies, temple bells

Street urchins, vagabonds,

Every day was a discovery

Every moment to swallow

Unsatiated  desire to learn

To understand to interpret

It is neither poem

Nor a statement of confession


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