ashish shrestha


Of Dreams - Poem by ashish shrestha

i walk through the land centuaries old
but its called the modern times! ! ! !
it demands a lot of once caved man,
when he came out in the sun,
started doing things, he had fun
and there were others that he knew,
by his cave, together they grew.
out in the sun they came too.
they built things that he never knew
he touched to see if it was true.
with confused mind, figurin out the clues.
voices dead of what they said,
but the pictures made speaks
with my eyes and it tells me that
all those stories lied.
if things were to be seen like in my dreams,
my woken self on my feet, they shoot and
shoot me but i don`t bleed, a funny kinda
feelin stuck in my brains, it hurts and they call it
pain.i run and run, i reach this place,
everything changed and it felt great.than
in a picture came a man, i called him my father
and he gave me his hand, than i flew up in the
clouds.i felt so soft and i had this bird eyed view
of the perfect land that i drew as a boy,
from those stories my mother knew.
her voice painted picture in my mind,
i closed my eyes, it looked fine.
than the flight came to an end, ahead of me
was a scene, from the place once i had been,
covered in clouds nothing seen.
but dreams are different form what eyes see,
it`s something that i want to be, before i`m dead
and i turn to bee or an eagle i don`t care.
of the unkown i`m not scared.everyday is a dream
that i live, to breadth cool air, my heart that beats,
to feel earth soothing underneath my feet.
all the stars and moon above.playin with me,
the night, as i sleep promised me the sun to
wake me up.

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Mary Elizabeth Frye

Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep



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Poem Submitted: Saturday, June 11, 2011



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