On My Birthday Poem by Roby Chittilappilly

At some point in the past,
I realized 'time' is the hero.
I wished, he could run faster.

Senior boys in school,
always had a pair of frightening eyes;
Glad in bullying the juniors
as they are born ahead of us.
The time advantage, they have.
I wish, he could run faster.

People who works in the industry,
much free time and money, they have
than those who are in college.
The time advantage, they have.
I wish, he could run faster.

Years passed.
At this day and at this time,
I and the time are in sync.
Now, I plead him to stop running.
Though I am sure,
the younger ones would always wish,
him to run faster.

As each minute passes by,
I get more tensed.
I called up my home,
mom says, get married.
I smiled at her.
dad says, concentrate in career
I frowned at him.
sister says, please grow up
I pretended not to bother.

At 12: 00 midnight,
I bent on my knees.
The 'Big Ben' clock in London,
opened in my desktop;
I prayed to 'time', but
by the time, he has past twelve.
With a broken heart,
I fell in the couch.

The next morning,
I checked in the mirror,
Nothing much has changed,
ignoring the beard growth.
Big ben in my desktop,
continues running
with a smiling face.

Back in office,
everything is in place.
My untidy coffee mug,
still in place.
I smiled at others,
pretended nothing has changed.
Nothing has changed.