The real me
Like the wish of a bud
it springs like a blooming flower
with the hope of seeing the dawn,
it rises as a sky reaching tower
a bird which soars high
to reach the first flash of the sun,
a star twinkling in the dark
finding an answer to every question.
with thoughts so deep,
like an ocean of pearls,
it glides over every path
and every moment taking new turns.
a solitudinal personality it carries,
with fake and artificial accompanies.
a purified soul i see,
because this is the real me,
the real me.
Comments about this poem (The real me by Madeeha Ayub )
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley