Welcome to Neelesh Bhujle's Home Page on the net.

Poems

I did not kill my lovely wife.
I did not slash her with a knife.
I did not bonk her on the head.
I did not know that she was dead.

I stayed at home that fateful night.
I took a cab, then took a flight.
The bag I had was just for me.
My bag. My bag. Hey, leave it be.

When I came home, I had a gash.
My hand was cut from broken glass.
I cut my hand on broken glass.
A broken glass did cause that gash.

I have nothing, nothing to hide.
My friend he took me for a ride.
Did you take this person's life?
Did you do it with a knife?

I did not do it with a knife.
I did not, could not kill my wife.
I did not do this awful crime.
I could not, would not anytime.

Did you hit her from above?
Did you drop this bloody glove?
I did not hit her from above.
I cannot even wear that glove.

I did not do it with a knife.
I did not, could not kill my wife.
I did not do this awful crime.
I could not, would not anytime.

And now I'm free, I can return
To my small house, for which I yearn,
And to family whom I love.
So now I'm free, give back my glove.