An empty slate,

To write each one

Their own fate.

Crayons of hands and feet,

Scribbling as they please.

Figuring out the sheet;

Maximise they squeeze.

To evoke that probable;

To avoid the disdain.

To try every possible,

To achieve the gain.

Empty slate the universe gave.

Gave the tools, to efforts save.

To feel, to plan, to change, to create.

Nature grant one to sate.

But, hid it subtle,

To allow us play.

Now each is trying;

To write something,

That unveils the pleasures.

To discover the treasures.

Success is the only measure;

Before the final D- day!

Alas! Then.

Empty thou comes and thy returns!

©️Deepti Vishwanath. 2019

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