*****
The poem has been duly removed at the behest of one Mr. Scholesy who has - most kind of him, most kind -decided to publish it in his literary journals, Scibbler's Gazzette.
It will be back up in a few months.
*****
Author's note: Written in response to Aniket's post, this poem will (naturally) make more sense if you read his as well.
7 comments:
I am in love with you. This is the best thing I could have ever read. It brought me out of depression and I decided not to eat the 20 sleeping pills in my hand. You saved me.
@ Stupid-o-Saur
Uhmm.
WOw you just became a savior! Lol. I agree with these lines the most: "being a writer
in this world then
is nothing short of
third-rate torture
because you're the only one
living at the margins" Lovely.
@ Stupid-oSaur
Dude, since you don't need the pills anymore, mind shipping them to me?
@ Nikita
Thank you!
I'm just glad people still read this blog. :P
Dukh is bat ka nahi chunni babu ki humare blog ke comment ko log blog post ki tarah use karte hain. Dukh to tab hota hai jab use humare blog post se zyada wah-wah milte hain. :'(
I'm not going to give you the pleasure of reading "this is better than what I posted" in one of my comments on your blog. I'm just not going to.
@ Aniket
You are nice. Way too nice. :)
Can we meet? Please....
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