Transience Poem by Sunita Chandla

I'mjust another story, may not be often told

A child so agile, in a body pretty much old

Years gone by,are the pages of my book

A spirit quite young, of course not the look

Some chapters you, ll find are long and dreary

And a few are strraight,from a diary of a fairy

Fun n frolic, immaturity and compassion

Songs, poems, artistry and fashion,

Hurt, hope, and hardwork made the contribution

Such were thewords used for its construction

Want, worry, and willingness too, made its way

Gratitude, gregariousness, gullibilitysteadily stayed

These are all woven, in quite an exquisite pattern

To keep the spirit sparkling, growing and brighten

Too many tales often remain buried in plethora of books

Yet their chracters keep working hard, merely on their looks

They number as many as stars in the sky

Only God can tell us its plain reason why

Like many leaves of the trees, bloom and fall

Such is the case going to be, for us all

I may suddenly stoplike a clock on the wall

And a very close one, may mount my picture to stall

Our span is thin too like a page of a book

Death is impartial to a sage or a crook

Some portions of our story touch the hearts

While some are condemned for its own plots

Some differ in their choice of words and themes

Reading those scripts,one wonders what it means

You may hear the laughter and taste the tears

Some remain in your memory of your remaining years

Some are passed,silently without an uproar

And special ones earn laurels and their names too soar!

Truth may not be, how it appears to the world

To some itcan be quite daunting and absurd

More than often personalies are a facade

To keep it cool and sombre is a matter of art! ! !

Sunita Chandla
An artist!