My backpack is all that I have
My backpack is filled with used memories
As I trudge down the lonely road time charted for me.
Friends and lovers come and go
Our roads go together for a tiny while
Before time hollers, ' That is enough
now you go your separate ways'.
I started alone and alone I'll reach
Where the road's end is marked by my waiting grave.
Of all that I met on my way ahead
Only my backpack carries some tiny specks.
Crossroads abound, filled with fun and sound
I pick up their nuggets into my pack
But one way roads only lead from them
Barred to me, as they are for other souls.
I can see my grave simmer through the dusts of future
I slacken my pace and try to look back
but the road I came by has totally vanished
Only my backpack holds some of its traces.
JIBAN GOSWAMI's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (My backpack is all that I have by JIBAN GOSWAMI )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
Percy Bysshe Shelley
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
Kazi Nazrul Islam
(24 May 1899 - 29 August 1976)
(1330 - 1390)
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Invictus, William Ernest Henley
- If, Rudyard Kipling
- Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep, Mary Elizabeth Frye
- Moonlit Night, Tu Fu
- Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
- I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love .., Pablo Neruda
Poem of the Day
- If Minds Were As Brooks, Richard Blay
- She Loves Me, Omar Eldamsheety
- Face in the window, Israh Sadan
- Who the killer?, Gangadharan nair Pulingat..
- Nested above the lavenders, maryline vautravers
- A Semester Night, Muhammad Sarim Ashrafi
- Lonely all the time, Kelly Shanks
- A New Year Prayer of Blessings, Paul Sebastian
- Haiku 10 (A Flower Stands), Paul Sebastian
- Life Goes Clockwise, But..., Richard Blay