Date : 25th Feb, 2010
Timed : 01:45 AM
Birthday, 'tis my b'day today,
I feel thusly felicitous, which i ne'er felt ere.
After all i have turned seventeen,
Seventeen, but only seventeen,
And not more than seventeen.
But to me, it's THE SEVENTEEN,
All together, seventeen years have surpassed.
Amongst the past years,
Galore of affairs passed with felicity and tears,
But with the desire of fares,
I marched on without ires.
At times, I am in choir of orisons,
To sanctify mortals,
From all the wrongfulness they've done in life,
And people who've retained wrongs for whole life,
Commute them with no clamour and commotion in life.
I acknowledged, life may be convulsive,
If, for things, we're a bit impulsive,
But once done, it is filled with anguish and agony,
Whenever we act in a haste, to drag our life into ebony.
So after ages of experience,
I e'er commix with people with a civility,
After crystallizing all the dubious actions,
In mortals which is generally obscure.
And at the end, I enchant,
Life to be so clarion and infant,
Where we should foster it,
For the result of abstinence from pestilence.
Yes, life is bleak at times,
But we are to click it with convalence,
To remove congregated emptiness.
So I conceive, I need to grow more,
More than a multiple of seventeen,
With an irrefutable attitude,
So now i'm frenzied with reverie,
To warily put my endeavour,
To know more, much more,
And to grow more, much more. . .
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