Trinidad was, a land, of nerds
The, realm of, ‘obliged destiny’
For a pariah, who believed, his words
Would end, world’s literary, ennui!
A hope stranded, in a, humdrum isle
Found its voice, in the, common man
Could an ethos, ever be, so infertile!
He penned enigmas, of an, estranged clan!
Their daily toils, and nightly dreams
Little odds, and ends, of existence
A maestro, is one, who redeems
Trampled voices, from inconsequence!
He went on, to reign, a world, of his own
Who saw, no hope, in a, land downbeat
Is gone, with an epitaph, on his stone:
“A Lad Lost In Miguel Street”!
© 2018 Vikas Chandra