Me, a cartoonist

Sometimes I wonder, how I became a cartoonist
But it is nice like popcorn, feels easy to digest
I love doing this, yummy, crunchy, funny ones
Describing people with curves, quick lines

But it is hard to fall in love if you are a cartoonist
Poet can write few romantic lines for his sweetheart
Writer can write pages about her
But what all I can do is, draw her caricature
Make to look her funny,
Though she is not
She might smile, might like for me
But she won’t love it, I am sure

My funny curves,
Make you feel, how you look when you smile
When you smile like a child, from your heart
My moves, faster than your heartbeat
Make you smile at least for a while
I am a cartoon of God, the animated one
Of three dimension, high definition
So I think I write crazy, I draw crazy, I live crazy

Writing is not like my cartoons, not the readymade snacks
Almost a day passed, with pen and paper, staring at the roof
My paper is still blank, but on forehead so many caressed marks
These marks of my saw like nail,
Sharper than my lines, reddish
Oh God, It sounds damn crazy, so kiddish

My first funny poem for her, with no proper start and end
I think it is still funny, I am a poet somewhere, I pretend