They say I don’t brush my teeth right,
That my sleep incurs a chilling plight.
My smile is a comic sight,
A square peg in a round hole, an anomaly to be righted?
Or an attraction to see?
A friend to be helped, is that me?
They teach me how to brush and sleep and smile,
And I teach them how to spin stories, to write.
For no law, I believe in but one,
The creative needs regularity learn
Just as the regular need to know how to dream and stare into the sun.
A/N- I used ChatGpt to edit a poem of mine. Presenting the result. What do you think? To read my original draft, head to Anjali Roongta.
