Juliet Cat was an amazing high-drama queen
I am not lying, exaggerating or trying to be mean.
She used to spend hours on her balcony, lamenting her fate.
She had a crush on Romeo, an arrogant tom cat first rate.
The rest of us could not understand why she spent days,
Pining away on the balcony, whining in all kinds of ways.
She is never happy or satisfied, the other female cats said.
One was angry with her for sure, for her husband was dead.
She does not know real misery, the widow woman mewed.
A fight broke out in the alley, a mob mentality, one got lewd.
Juliet Cat did not hear them, she was in a world of her making.
Until the balcony began quivering, and violently shaking.
It’s a tornado! Everyone ran inside and put hurricane shutters up.
Juliet Cat was the first one to skedaddle with a friendly pup.
Things were touch and go, but some were ready to celebrate,
However, the roof came down and crushed Juliet; a horrible fate.
It seems so quiet here since you went.
The dog's more settled, the cat's more content.
My friends seem to visit much more than before
and I can visit the pub without starting a war
Now the dust has settled the house is just fine.
I order my groceries and things online
and the fit widow woman down the road
does my washing and ironing by the load.
Darts league on Wednesdays and the odd game of pool,
footy on Saturday with some old mates from school
all keep me active and stop me feeling bereft
which could so easily happen to me since you left.
I'm managing to cope, with the odd glass of wine,
when I'm feeling depressed, but then I'm just fine.
When you walked out the door I didn't think I could
but now I'm much happier than I ever thought I would.
My ongoing rehab means I have to endure
a fortnight away on the French Cote d'Azure.
But if it will help fill the ache in my heart
I'll just grin and bear it, I suppose it's a start.
So there's no need to worry that I'm not sleeping at night,
you're the last person I think of when I turn out the light.
So I'm holding my end up with great fortitude
and thinking of having my tea in the nude.
Oh God!
When this state be free
And an independent kingdom again!
India, a hypocrites’ country, is a Power,
And although we are famous for being straightforward
But, a small nation, in Arms and Weopens we are very weak.
Otherwise, now tired of Double-talk Dialogues and humiliating
Invitations for Talks,
We’d make it, in a violent war in air.
And an another aggressive Muslim state,
Pakistan (land of the pure!) has kept us captive, there,
Across the nonsensical border,
And gifted a part, of us, to its Mongol friend!
And Shame on their living!
These petty politicians in this Indian election time
Are frequenting this forgotten village street.
Some scared of a villain Indian minister,
Others, licking her feet, a widow woman politician.
While others immature, in the nights' dark,
On the roadside walls, are propagandizing for Pakistan.
Ah Alas!
All great politicians are gone,
Like prophets, painters and poets,
These modern high standard schools
Can not create.
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