Hiya Kabir

Rookie (04.18.98 / Dhaka, Bangladesh)

Land Of Hatred - Poem by Hiya Kabir

The land of the hate,
Consists of two people.
Mothers and fathers whose will is ill fate,
Which causes you to question their true virtue.

They yell at me
‘Tll the cows come home,
To poison my tea
With their deadly words.

For I am dying,
They are greatly joyful.
My hands are prying
The gates of the Fire open.

One sin leads to many more,
A chain reaction of events.
Once one is done,
There is no turning back
Not even for the holy Lent.

Love is overrated.
Hate is underrated.
What is in between?
Death is peaceful.
What one has done
Is no matter to the present
Nor the future.
It is what you say you will do that counts.
Better said than done.

Life with “thank you” is a lie.
There is simply no such thing.
Life is hope, something we cannot live.

Everyone is on their own,
All for themselves.
We are selfish little creatures,
For we must want what we cannot have.

Peace is a dream no one has lived yet.
Peace is purely fictional,
Unable to happen.

When the world will end,
No one will say, “Help me! ”
And really be helped.
Our minds think then,
“Who cares about them? ”

When you find the one
Who makes you laugh
For no reason at all,
You think you are in “Love”.
Are you really though?
Are you just imagining things?
Love does not exist,
In this realm at least.
When one is married,
They do it for love, not Love.
A story that begins with a child’s birth
Does not necessarily have to end.
It depends on your world.
Whether it is filled with peace
Or love
Or hate,
It cannot be all three.

A world earns a label for its reputation.
Those not in it,
Live without worry,
Unless their world is worse.
Point of view can change the world.
Yes, one thing can destroy
Or save YOU.

09.17.09


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Poem Submitted: Saturday, February 13, 2010

Poem Edited: Saturday, February 13, 2010


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