A Wanderer

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A tentative knock

On my window

Made me look up

To see a poem

Sitting on the windowsill

Tired and forlorn.

I have come a long way

Seeking asylum

Can I sit here for sometime?

It asked tremulously.


This room is filled

With great poems.

They are classics

Revered books

Epic poems written by

Eminent writers.

I cannot find space for wanderers,

I replied.


Have you been published?

What is your pedigree?

Were reviews written for you?

Did discussions quote your lines?

Did you get any awards?

I asked.


The head of the poem drooped in shame

Its face fell into despondence.

I have not made my name in the world

No one has found me worthy,

the poem replied.


Let me stay

In  a small corner

I will fly away after a rest.

Nearness to these

Famous  poets

Will surely bring me solace.

May be one day

A reader may come

To wake me up.

Delve into my pages

Savour me and

take me along.


I pointed to a dusty corner

You can stay there

Till some one finds you

There is space

Even for a lonely traveller.

I opened the windows wide

To let the poem in.