Mr. Anonymous ... Not Any More

I used to work for that guy they call Mr. Anonymous.
I gave him my talent and he took my name away.
“You don’t want to be yourself, do you? It’s not worth having an identity.
It causes you pain and suffering. You have to fight back and out too much.
People hammer you back when you stand out; You die a new death every day.
Let somebody else have the identity. I'll let you have your say ”


It worked, for a while. Everything was smooth and flat, no waves. Calm.
I was the one, everyone called the ghostwriter. The guy behind the scenes.
I wrote the words that others used.Then one day I looked in the mirror and saw nobody.
It was Mr. Anonymous looking back at me. I didn’t like it. I wanted MYSELF back.


I thought, what’s wrong with my opinions? I have opinions I want to express.
My opinions. Not the opinions of someone else. Vengeance.
I’m Munish Sharma, world. I exist. From now on, I shall put my name on everything.
This is Munish Sharma’s poem. This is Munish Sharma’s space.
Munish Sharma’s air. Munish Sharma’s day. Munish Sharma is here, right now.


There’s never going to be any other like him. This is it, somewhere he is, the one and only.
Catch him now, accept no substitutes, No ghostwriters, hacks, no imitations of any kind.
He used to work for Mr. Anonymous.. But today he quit.
Let Mr. Anonymous steal somebody else’s identity.
Munish Sharma dares to have his identity back.