For an idea to fit in a poem that fills the hearts, the concept must come out in a tune…
A piece of fresh idea in tune becomes a verse and rhymeless concepts to the wastebasket!
A Poet’s Wastebasket…
It’s beautiful but not observed,
It’s really wonderful but unnoticed,
It speaks about crucial, but not cared
it holds some useful too, but no one needs.
Then why are you are bothered,
If the creator has ignored it?
A shine was there in it, more divine than a shrine.
Poet’s wastebasket is full of ideas,
It has its own sense and essence.
They are there, not because they worth less,
But because they can’t be set to the meter,
The rhyming meter of a verse
They are not so flashy like a fairy
And so they’re simply squeezed and thrown out.
As you know that’s the rule here
Pretty plays are projected,
Even dirty deeds are celebrated
But no trumpets for essential ones.
And they all stay calm hopefully
At the palace, poet’s wastebasket
For the perfect time and rhyme to reach.