Poem: Musical Chair

My morning marathon begins in a crowded bus
to carve a niche, like the fellow-fanatic hoi-polloi, I rush
balancing on the footboard, showing my skills of equilibrium
I compete, dangling to the belt of optimism
Exhausting game of musical chair which, to play, I retreat
and for the fairer, antique and challenged, I give up my seat.

Somehow, I reach the venue of a bigger battle
to carve a niche, in the myriad of cattle
struggling to make a mark, sweating blood and ink
I compete, envisaging a yielding spring, without a blink
Discovering my chair been already labelled, I face deceit
and for the undeserved, majority and affluent, I give up my seat.

Now, I stand in a deep dark tunnel
to carve a niche, in the regal panel
advocating a better tomorrow, keeping my collar white
I compete, to the ones placed on self-made lofty pedestals, I fight
an unethical game of biased ballot, I taste defeat
and for the powerful, brown-nose and immoral, I give up my seat.

-Ashish