When I am gone: A poem by Maneet Gulati

Catechizes my subliminal self, forcing me to ponder
Veiled cobwebs, be cleansed, in my soul yonder
That itch, wombed, yet scraping, tugging to hatch
Ransacking the tranquility, my joy, does it snatch

Material pleasures,  wealth galore, I have them all
Amiss is something, shadowing my joy with a somber wall
Exhuming every inch of my essence, I finally unearth
“When I am gone,” the question breathes, taking birth

Wailing like an infant, it howls and shrieks in my ears
Will someone besides my family, miss me and shed tears
“When I am gone,” will my fragrance persist and perfume lives
Will something of me, be worth, of staying in the archives

Opening the floodgates to an inner renascence
I wake up, haul myself, from the languid senescence
It’s not too late, to give back a pinch of what I took
Living a little for others, I can rewrite my life’s book

So “when I am gone”, thinking of me, makes someone smile
For “when I am gone,” left will be, the treasure of my deeds worthwhile.”