The flood lit lush green evening matinee show
Un-lid a plethora of previous pulsating fun
In drawing rooms they scattered the lustrous glow
Oh! What tipsy barons and lusty-leaders undone.
The old withered willow tree of yore
Has lost its aura to murky corporate deals,
Where stinky funds extorted from the poor
Are spent on players as show-horses in fields.
We, the cannon fodder of the advertisement gun,
Are assailed ball by ball and fed with dreams
And bleed day to day in ad-picked inflation
It pushes the precious aam admi to brim.
The twits, the consortia had made a rendezvous-
In dark lanes, with cash and women to woo.
This poem reflected the popular perception of IPL-cricket tournament of 2010.
It is from my book " So I Used Gray & Other Poems"
