Amit Choudhary

I’m too soft to be a man.Juggling, pushing, hurrying—each of them.When I step out into the crowd,I feel the need for a magic wand.I’m too soft to be a man. Darwin spoke of the surviving man—the fittest, the quickest—hungry for…

Heard the master shouting,felt him pull the reins.I galloped, galloped, and galloped,with wrists in pain. I starved for a pat,and starved for the grain.Twisted, faster, better—all strain in the vein. One day, I broke the tether,and galloped in the rain.No…