My days go with haste.
Like the wind, time
sweeps my hours.
My fatigued legs,
my fevered brain
don't let me think
over my pains and promises.
Do I know what's there
in front of my window?
Nothing I see,
except the dull buildings,
which signify nothing,
at that moment of busy sec.
Even, I forget to see
my face, though there
are big mirrors before me.
I cry for more time.
You cry for me.....
She cries for you....
Life is like this
twisted and tattered,
valuable yet valueless.
I bear this earthly attire
and wear my fake smile,
which I never want to.
But,
my acquired loneliness which
I gather from the day's crowd,
drenches me with sweet N sour thought.
My sleeping eyes,
long to jump in bed.
Still,
My feet take me to
the cool chair,
allowing me to cast my
last look to the poems
of the precious poets,
before sleep.
This is the best gift
I cherish to......
I used before... go to sleep... i dont know... maybe to calm down... read poems too... That sooth my dreams.... And i think OH! That's all I have left now
Pensive dreary but poetic. U read other's poems and they read yors. To portray real life in this fine way is sharing yor great talent and promoting readability.
The magnetism of poetry is great as you rightly pointed out. It is the same magnetism that make us all visit this site in spite of our busy schedule.
Wow.... Neela you just spoke the words, which I wanted to tell. Before going to sleep I just have a last look to the poems of the precious poets. This is the best gift, I too agree.... A Superb write. Loved it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Poetry can indeed be very soothing and inspiring when all else in life seems dark. Very good Neela.