I Wish To Be Me - Poem by Parikshit Joshi
I tried; being one among everyone
awake when they feel its day,
walk the street the followed way.
I want to know what lay beyond,
the thoughts they own or have owned.
I walk the hills when it is dark,
they always paint it bright and not stark!
I tried; to be alike everyone.
barring myself from emotions,
considering the world and its notions!
I start walking and catch the speed,
and keep on walking till I bleed.
I cry, I weep, I fail, I stay
I want to walk my own way!
And here today,
I try; to be me.
awake at night, sleeping in sun,
why is the question, answer none.
walk and run and sit when in pain,
why is the question, to answer I refrain.
to feel the smiles, the pounding, the wails,
Yes I am not the iron but the wood which sails.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
i remember there was a time I tried following what my parents wanted me to do giving up my own dream. I happily followed the way but soon realised, it was their thoughts I was thinking and hence I could not nurture them.
The line 'they paint it bright, not paint it stark' refers to the fact that when others impose their thoughts on us, for once we see them as glorious as they can be but soon realise the shivering ground underneath it.
And still if we follow the prescribed way, we lose ourselves somewhere and its just an idol which is living.
And then when we give up on others and start following our way, do things as we want, answering none, that could be the best thing ever(but this should happen when we believe in our dreams and take responsibility of the success or failure) . When we take responsibility for our actions, when our actions are generated from our minds, its then that we can realise our motive on Earth.
Comments about I Wish To Be Me by Parikshit Joshi
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Parikshit Joshi's Other Poems
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
A Dream Within A Dream
Edgar Allan Poe