Hardik Vaidya (26 Dec 1969, yet to kick the bucket. / Mahuva, Gujarat, India.)
What is being empty?
It certainly is not being dead.
One lives, one smiles, one laughs.
But one is miles away from one's own self.
How deep is emptiness?
Perhaps an inch deeper than what your toe can reach.
How wide is emptiness?
Perhaps a finger more than what your arms can stretch.
How tall is emptiness?
Perhaps what the sky cannot dwarf.
What is being full?
The cruelty of not loving you.
Comments about this poem (Emptiness. by Hardik Vaidya )
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
William Ernest Henley
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings