My Better Half - Poem by Kishore Asthana
Whose cries I hear at night, whose sighs I hear
Whose sobs break my heart, whose grief and fear
Whose dry eyes I see through, whose stoic pose anew
Whose silent screams I hear aloud, whose smiles grow so few
Whose courage fails and good cheer dies
The light has dimmed in whose lovely eyes
Who is rich beyond our dreams
in ways the poets describe
Yes, it is you and you and you, the women of my tribe
Why is it that we are so callous and so blind?
Why is it that we are so cruel to our kind?
Time grinds your dreams, sometimes exceedingly fine
But the hand that turns the stone
Is often yours and mine!
Comments about My Better Half by Kishore Asthana
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
- Still I RiseMaya Angelou
- The Road Not TakenRobert Frost
- If You Forget MePablo Neruda
- DreamsLangston Hughes
- Annabel LeeEdgar Allan Poe
- Stopping By Woods On A Snowy EveningRobert Frost
- IfRudyard Kipling
- I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love YouPablo Neruda
- Do Not Stand At My Grave And WeepMary Elizabeth Frye
- TelevisionRoald Dahl