A Simple Life, A Deeper End - Poem by Rohan Sen
Sunday morning, a wide open window,
the sun beams painted accross the walls,
they fall on my face and I awake,
shaken by its power,
comforted in the silence of the hour
I couldnt tell when I fell asleep..
the screaming was on till late last night,
and mamma was even sobbing at one point,
as she always does when dad and mom fight.
Life changed when I grew older,
I was 4 when the fighting started,
two years have passed,
never thought it would last
They used to say I was the reason
why they were happy,
now that they are sad, they quarrel,
should I take it..that it is I who is the cause,
for their marital wars?
Maybe I should go where grandma went,
dad said now that she was dead,
he was happy -
that was the simple answer, no more worry,
I shall try and be 'dead' in a hurry!
I asked everyone I knew,
where I'd find the road to dead,
some laughed, some were shocked,
yet no one answered my query,
leaving me weepy weary
And then a stroke of luck,
my swimming instructor let out the secret,
and announced unwarranted,
'that anyone who went to the deep side,
would find herself dead'
When ev'ryone was busy with games,
I slipped into the pool,
and swam as far into the deep,
knowing how happy it will make,
my parents..so swam as far as,
my little feet could take
It became difficult to keep,
myself from submerging,
and tried to attract attention,
against the foamy surging
I tried to shout,
but my mouth,
oh! the water,
my parents see...scream..
they run to me...am I in a bad dream?
but wait, I am nearly..dead..
and then suddenly the mist clears,
I fly out of the pool,
am in the midst of my parents,
all my friends from school,
but they point at me and through me,
and weep..that I was at the deep,
I was in 'dead'...and so I turn to see,
a body floating in the pool,
Oh God! Is that me?
Comments about A Simple Life, A Deeper End by Rohan Sen
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You