CHOUDHURI SUKUMAR - Creation

I no longer recollect places that ought to be visited.
Days of hot summer wind. No shades. No message of cordiality.
No termination.
I exist with mere reflections. I only mould my being. Little by little.
shower it with love.
Mould it with clay. A steel rod for the spinal cord.
No other identity save perspiration.
No other tune except drudgery.
That's why I keep searching for self. And wonder
I'll traverse towards another kind of world ~
And if some day
This process will bring to life my creation

CHOUDHURI SUKUMAR

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/creation-3/