aditi jain Poems

Me, myself, mine.
Do these words even matter?
Me, my life, my ambitions,
To others is a jest.
...

Each day is a struggle,
The dark of the night, a place to hide.
In the end is the beginning they say,
To get there is no child’s play
...

The sky is blood dimmed.
The war cries deafening.
As the clouds break into a violent thunder,
the white dove tries hard to stay in flight.
...

They burnt the houses
They killed the innocent
Thousands were left hungry
Many had lost the will to live
...