LIFE

A gift wrapped in a box anxious to unfurl,

Delighting the beholder, clutching carefully in a curl.

Oblivious to the world outside, yet not willing to hide.

Yes, I’m Life, possessing scintillation of a pearl.

On unraveling I’m welcomed and hugged by my fellow being,

Elation paramount, while they have me incessantly seeing,

It feels I’m always riding on the moon, they say my innocence is my biggest boon,

But, my tenderness once noble soon starts fleeing.

The once lustrous gift, now no more holds the sheen,

My query goes unanswered, “What’s changed from what once I’d been?”

Why do they get bored, of the prize they erst adored,

Am I no more worthy, or my mould is no more clean.

I then hear a clamorous uproar, jubilation all over again,

“While I’m wrecked and they are festive,” I wonder, “have they all gone insane?”

A box along a mirror draws in my gaze; it certainly holds a distinct blaze.

Looking at us together, my lament then seems to go in vain.

The comeliness of the new box was beyond my comparison,

While I was crawling dusty low, it sailed through the horizon.

My glorious moments were over, reminded my tattered cover,

I’m now to be disposed-off; they’re waiting for a befitting season.