I am back to the shore,
Besides me is a sea of endless tears,
But not a dropp in my eyes,
It seems as if I have forgotten to cry,
Just as I did to smile.
Fantasy, craziness, even happiness,
Now have become words of an alien world.
Phrases known to me just mean, or are,
'Study hard or you will fail in the examination of life',
But passing with a dead heart and a hot brain is not what I desire,
Oh 'desire'! It's no more than an arrangement of six alphabets to me,
Which might have its place in the english dictionary,
But has been banned to use in the glass house where I live.
It was so wise of Shakespear to say,
'What's in a name',
A mortal or even immortals are identified only by their degrees,
By the creatures I know.
The only 'wish', if it happens not to be a taboo,
I have is just,
One soulfull night of peace where for once
'I can just be 'me'',
Just like a baby tigeress in the fields!
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Comments about this poem (Being Me by Vanya Kaushik )
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
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Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
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