By Rajnish Mishra

It’s difficult to be what you are destined to be,

more difficult to know what you are destined to be,

and then to live, not reaching there, ever. 


Nothing comes for free. 

The world takes the fee of life.


Sometimes it simply condemns you to live your death

as you know you live, but not your destiny.


No David for that Goliath, the world

not for long, not for ever.


You live compromises, one after the other.

You give some and then, some more. 


My sons, they tell me

that a part of my destiny will be fulfilled through them.

I smile and mask my fear.


Just think of the day they know their father, the midget,

the coward, and then, hate him


for not being

what he was destined to be. 


Rajnish Mishra is a poet, writer, translator and blogger born and brought up in Varanasi, India and now in exile from his city. His work originates at the point of intersection between his psyche and his city. He edits PPP Ezine.

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