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| Silent sore |
| Wednesday, April 4, 2007 |
God’s wrath or Ruth, I had to decide
I was only 16 then, I confide
Some called it puppy love,
Some hailed as another philanderer in the town
I took it something that was my own,
A relation that was my child
Soft, sensitive, turbulent and wild
Relation not of blood, not bestowed by god
This was mine, my own-self--thanks lord
Hairs that hanged lose down to the supple chin
The silken growths reigning free from that little pin
Marring her vision every sixth second
When she raised her looks from behind ---
I bent my knees, unable to defend
Eyelids fighting for space for their swings
I saw all similes in there, and my imaginations get its wings..
Heart sags, beat sores
Can you hear? I pleaded in silence
My cries, my encores??
One fine day, I gathered it all
I decided to speak it out and stand tall
Heart threatened to fail, face --stale pale
That fine day, it was all, but not over
I will be happy to have the feeling, forever!!
Lost someone, who never was mine
Grudge stays that way, but life runs fine
I treasure the marvels in wilderness and in solitude,
It till persists-- silent, mute
I sing with heart zeroed on you
I osculate; I talk --when I remember you
I crave for you, my benign love,
But all the way I know, I can’t get you.
~DheerLabels: pensive, Poems |
posted by Dheeraj @ 12:26 AM   |
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