Walking in the park, I see
A ball hit a bully
I stifle a chuckle

I see a friend break confidence
And reveal secrets of others
I assert, sitting on my high horse,
How childish it is to trust anyone at all

I read in the freshest news how
A man who tried to turn his black money into white
Now wears the same colours
He had it coming, I mutter

The jocks and the cheerleaders
Are ripped of their popularity
When they fail a semester
The silent song of ‘finally’ resounds

Home alone, hungry and irritable,
Order a pizza online, praying that
It comes at the thirty-first minute
I need not pay, it is the delivery-boy’s loss,
The pizzas seem tastier that night

My favourite team wins the match
I celebrate the defeat of the rest
I buy crackers and feast on snacks
And tease the losing supporters with hostile attacks
I feel contentment

Riding my bicycle
I see a mischievous boy slit the tyres
Of my rude neighbour’s car
I pray and hope the rims bend
I ride home in delight

You know you have done it too
However altruistic you may usually be
But given a chance, you’d still redo

And when we smiled at others’ loss to fill our void
They shamed and named it schadenfreude.


2 Comments Add yours

  1. beckykbl says:

    I like the bold theme that you have attempted in this poem Diya….and the ease with which you have sent home a message that ‘Schadenfreude ‘, though an uncommonly used word, is a common trait .
    You have a unique style.
    Keep them coming.

    1. ankitagupta says:

      Thank you, Becky aunty.

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