Just a Number

Opening my eyes, all I could see

were countless happy faces round me,

teeming with a perplexed sense of calculation

counting what I failed to, my fingers.

Six o’ them I had, and I had nothing to complain

but certainly, I felt it’s a happy counting game.

The’ one-with-six’, ‘the one-with-six’

was what on my nameplate they fixed,

I had a name, I certainly did

but seldom I heard it.

When everyone had a name for me,

I called myself a ‘sexy-little-Sixie’

But so happy I grew up to be,

that creamy-happiness made me an 88- kg,

“Ninety-Aunty-Ninety-Aunty”

they named me again,

leaving me thinking,

how come extra two I gained?

With confusions, I moved ahead,

gave birth to 5 tiny little heads.

Girls they were, and counted their fingers I,

to save from numbers these angels from sky.

But for me they came again with loud drums

‘the-one-with-5-girls-and-0-son’

Old I grew, with numbers abound

soul departing, lilies-cards around.

In the grave, came Death from afar,

too busy putting souls in his car.

And then I heard him amidst the hue and cry,

“Time for #6885”

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