Write a poem they said,
Avoiding the fifth vowel,
Three places, that's all it got,
Poor letter standing on the sideline, Wondered whatever went wrong?
The other vowels showed off in a thrill,
Weaved the poetries with their skills,
Danced with meters, syllables and rhymes,
They cackled at fifth with horrible smiles.
Fifth vowel fell into a state of gloom,
Its life had shattered way too soon,
So many poetry framed not needing its help,
Perhaps life had certainly reached its end.
So it closed its eyes and took a break,
And lay down gently on its back,
It listened to the poetry that others made,
Felt content and happy with all it had,
A kind smile spread across its face,
As verses took it to mystical lands,
Of hills, valleys and exotic lakes,
Of imagination, that no one can ever snatch.
Perhaps sometimes it's ok to fall behind,
To laze away and breathe a while,
To speak to stars and disappear,
from certain poetries for peace of mind.
The world's in a race,
To a destination not known,
Compete and chase,
A goal that they don't own.
Maybe peace and happiness,
Is on the sidelines,
When we watch as a spectator,
Enjoying a lifetime.
Who's racing ahead,
Who's falling behind,
Doesn't matter when fifth finally finds,
That it can exist beyond these lines,
It never appeared yet was always in mind.
And then a great realization bloomed,
When freed from the lines fifth lost its gloom,
It smiled widely for now it knew,
The theme of the poem was always 'U'