When you grow up
You will ask some time,
Why did I take so long
To come and dine
With you and watch your tantrums
And some unanswered jabs
At me, for not remembering
So many of your stories
At the moment you demanded
But no, I will not do that,
I will not come
My little boy
Lest the garden planted by your elders
Gets spoiled
I am standing here, on the other
Bank of time
Cross over whenever you want to partake
Some joys of nothingness, some
Fun out of the cup of irreverence