I Me Myself

Quotidian ritual to boast-

I did this,

It’s me to resist.

I love myself,

to be my own chef.

The letter ‘I’ is of pride.

To boast self, just to glide.

To gloat to secure,

to brag to procure,

appreciation, laudation,

Just for the time being .

And to relate, all are seeing.

No prologue a doer needs,

his shine says it all.

And so does a gem stone,

when the populous praises a lot.

Nor do they exhibit,

their possession even a bit.

A chance to the peeps,

to exalt to give glory,

to the owner of ‘I’,

should be given to try.

A boaster is a lacker,

claptrap he seeks.

He tries to define,

in words,he refines.

Wears a crown of ‘I’,

Unaware of the spy.

Under observation are we,

all time, all day so far.

Let the work be quiet,

confident in silence.

Aloud are those, are unwise,

who blow the trumpet of ‘I’