Apurva Jain

Rookie - 10 Points (18-10-1994 / Agra)

Stone


The days have passed, nights are gone,
I'm still in love with a stone,
The seasons changed, the clay too came,
I still hold it with no moan,
The clay comes to me in so many shapes,
Wants me to hold it, whatever it may take,
But clay can hurt me, clay may fake,
Even if it's clay, I have a heart it can break,
The season may change,
The clay may go,
Slowing my heart beat,
All time low,
Stone is hard,
Stone is black,
Stone is emotionless,
Doesn't stab at back,
The clay, the stone, both make me die,
But if a stone does, even the clay may cry...
and I'll never ask why...
It's better to live with a stone,
not clay,
Clay is soft, but it hurts,
which is not the stone's way.....

Submitted: Saturday, July 14, 2012
Edited: Saturday, July 14, 2012

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  • Rookie - 88 Points Payal Parande (7/14/2012 1:44:00 PM)

    this poem shows the story of every one like how people like to play in safe way even though they would feel nothing at all and not want to get hurt even they would feel everything.....
    though every one must have put this in front of people in lot of way but i thing you are the who did great job of it
    loved it................ (Report) Reply

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