Thoughtfully written and thoughtlessly scribbled,
Creatively painted and unimaginatively doodled,
All over me until the target is achieved,
Treasured by millions, but misused by trillions,
Born out of killing the saviour of the ecosphere,
The most bred commodity found everywhere,
My incredible lifetime is like the seasonal leaves,
But not entitled to a graceful fall like them,
Often crumpled, torn, violated or thrown
Into the trash or dumped anywhere around,
Those are the lives of mine that could be rekindled,
Like the spring, sometimes I am resuscitated,
And my life goes on the same way as before.
Stuck up as pads, journals, notes,
Or laid straight up as sheets for dailies,
I will be everywhere and generously flipped,
Hope this purposive circle of my life,
Is acknowledged by one and all,
And inspire them to never accept defeat,
For it’s always about bouncing back,
Either in hardcover or in paperback.