You Don’t Like Me,
It’s None of My Business.
You Judge Me as Sin,
I Don’t Mind.
You Blame Me for Your Muddle,
I Don’t Care.
It’s Your Cross to Bear Not Mine.
But Remember “What You Throw Up In Air,
Will Always Return Back To You.”
It Won’t Be Any Magic; Good Or Bad.
It Would Be Your Own Karma.
Karma Which You Watered With Your Fears,
And you Shunned Your Happiness by Tears.
It Grew Both Day And Night,
Till It Bore an Apple Bright.
-KRISHA B MEHTA
YOU ARE READING
karma
Poetry"We arrive into the world as innocents. Wide-eyed, vulnerable. It is our elders job to protect us. And even in the most basic task they fail miserably. But as one's death is near everyone has to pay for their own karma, karma of whole life."
