I am going to cry
Being trapped in this
World of concrete and fumes
For wealth and comfort
I have come a long way
To this town of people with
Fake faces and strange behaviors
Clock does not stop here
Time runs like a horse in a race
Family, relations, customs
All come for free only in dreams
As I wake up I can feel the pulse
Of my own land, throbbing and alive,
Where the sun rises washed and pure
Where lotus opens up in the ponds
Like divine eyes of the village deity
I am going to cry
For through the window of
The train I can see farmers working
In fields and children running after
Old tyres, rolling them with sticks,
In the muddy roads of my village
I became a child and jumped out as
The train stops releasing a hissing sound
Thanks very much. I am glad you liked the poem. Thanks for rating too.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Yes I agree truly a magnificent poem and I Thank you for your effort. James McLain 🎸
Humble thanks and very grateful to you for giving your time.