Surely you hate <br />can't love <br />your room, <br />this suburb, <br />this scent, <br />these flowers, <br />getting dirty <br />under showers! <br /> <br />Surely you hate <br />Anyone, <br />any Greek, <br />any Roman, <br />any English, <br />any Indian, <br />who drops in <br />to bed with, <br />then leaves, gasping <br />for that dream <br />that brought here <br />a girl long ago <br />to suffer severe. <br />Took the plunge <br />or had to take; <br />either lost way <br />or ‘tis fate. <br /> <br />But this glow <br />is sure to die, <br />someday beauty <br />is bound to fly <br />to some new born <br />destined to walk <br />on other way, or <br />on this same path. <br />Then no Asian, <br />no African, <br />no American <br />no European, <br />shall ever enter <br />this room <br />forget you <br />to doom. <br /> <br />This loafer, <br />who could never <br />buy some time <br />cherished ever, <br />shall keep knocking <br />at the door – <br />proposing, persuading… (2008)<br /><br />Basu Maan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-the-one-not-to-be-proposed/
