Barfi

The world is very beautiful they say,

A father and a mother pick you up all day.

If I were born, my birthday would have been in May,

Could have given a Laddu instead of a Barfi, but nay.

A cup, A plate, A stove, A barbie,

A brotherly hand on my head, eyes ever looking for a Darcy.

Had I breathed, Ma would have named me Jahnvi,

Braids or a Pixie, all she could have allowed me.

37 and a 28 thousand would make 65, I could have told,

Sin upon Cos is Tan, I would have wrote.

Might have traveled space, or a business shrewd,

Poetry could have been nice too, that I guess I already proved.

Oh, Meet my Daughter, you could have said,

Sad that Blood was my fate, wished at least you buried me dead.

Sleepless nights, endless hick-ups, breathless mornings,

Father o Father am in debt, at least pay her those borrowings.

Will you ever regret, some nine years might tell,

Seven heavens bless my Brother, may He never yell.

I had then formed, just one hand, something you never knew,

Friends here call me special, said am just a few.

Its better, soon I realized after you did the deed,

One will be enough to hold mother here, the other I would never need.