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Poem
And one day
Out of the blue I wondered, 
about those million little sacrifices that have been made
Because of which, the desires burning inside
Had no option other than to fade
How many times, the times not liable to be counted
must have a young mind came to a standstill
Barricading his thoughts, 
On something so rare
Just to complete his leftover tasks, which are materialistic
Leaving behind the poem on his mind
Ohh dear tactless world, he's an Altruistic! 

And how many times, the times not liable to be counted
must have a young hand come to a standstill
Dwindling hands, resisting hard
Something so pure
Just to complete his leftover tasks which are materialistic
Leaving behind the tune he discovered
Being constrained by time, he's an Altruistic! 

Be it a poem or be it a self made tune
Be it a song or be it a tarot card displaying fortune
Be it a book or be it an art occupying whole room
Since the time immemorial, 
A young artist always came to a standstill
Barricading his soul devoured by an art
Be it music, poetry, or fictional heart! 
Being at the superior, yet all these are not at the start
Cause, there exists this tactless world
Powered by possessions materialistic
Making the inhabited souls an absolute altruistic
Altruistic ,for the deeds not worth deserving
And so, we never reached that threshold
where, the greatest films of all times would be made 
The greatest songs of all time would exist
Not just for a while,
but for the time immemorial, 
All the greatest art forms would persist! 
As someday those buried masterpieces would be found
Under the same sky or maybe under the grave
As somewhere there must be a trace
that no one could easily erase
Indicating the beginning of that phase
Where young minds need not to be an altruistic 
Need not to be a materialistic
But, SOLE SELFISHLY ARTISTIC!
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