Rebuttals stand guard
glinting knives in hands
Refusals choke into silence
Rebuffs with axes hack.
Wounded limbs chopped
lesions and cuts adorning
thrashing for life
lies frail Spontaneity.
Dwindling hope flickering
in eyes beseeching
to live to survive
in a world hostile.
Are its days numbered
the hours limited
Is time ticking
will Spontaneity be no more??
Shall it be sacrificed
at the altar of Rejection
meet an ignominious end
and die bereft, un-mourned??
– Shail Mohan (Feb 2008)
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Shail's Nest 
Excellent–So profoundly true. Frail Spontaneity so necessary for the playful, the joyful, the magical moments that needful people may share–moments of refreshment, of insights, of hope, of bonding–moments so often endangered by the “world hostile” where seemingly the hard-hearted cynics attacks and destroys the spontaneous moments he/she cannot create, much less understand.
Bravo, Shail!
Thank you Bob! You have put it rather well.
skipping this…as i am a “dumb-ass” in poems and paintings…
somehow HE forgot to put that gene in me….
Swathi: Skip along!! 😉
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Profound, and all of those metaphors coming together in that allegory of sorts does indeed make one wonder at the frailty of it all!
Good one, Shail. Fine poetry 🙂
Me: Thank you so much Usha for the appreciation!
As long as there are people around to hold aloft that flag, it can never die.
There is always that hope 🙂