Perception

He was rude when he said to me -

Why do you serve these titbits as mental fodder?

These aren’t poems liked by people,

Nobody reads them.

Where is in them the rhythm and rhyme?

Where is in them the message and reason?

Where is in them the love you spurned? 

I heard him

He had said what he wanted to

It was now my turn to make him learn,

I said –

You have never been alone, my friend.

Only when you are alone, you are with yourself,

You think and quietly talk with yourself,

The titbits you refer to are piecemeal records,

Of my conversation with myself

I want you and others to know,

What had transpired between I and me;

They need a second reading from you,

Your mind will detect rhythm and rhyme,

And the reason that is simple and sound.

I saw him pick up a collection of my poems

And begin to read.