A Letter
  It's late at midnight   I'm writing a letter   solitude is my refuge   and I write to my father       this letter I'm writing      to clear some of your notions      I'm a poet by taste     so, I'll write with rhymic dispositions    I write to tell you   that I've come of an age   winds here blow as free   yet I live in a cage...          my friends are asleep         some of them are snoring         I had to write at midnight        coz my solitude keeps the sun ignoring    I've made friends   some of whom fake relations   o! yes, I have many friends   but I failed to get companions           vainglorious are people here          vaingloriousness leaves them scared          I study in a college          and no one teaches-"ego makes war" ...