Bhuvnesh Rohilla

Rookie (23-9-1993 / Delhi, India)

The Kid - Poem by Bhuvnesh Rohilla

There was a kid in my heart,
Roamed the streets unchained,
Holding on to a cart,
Of memories and wisdom
Overtime that he gained,
He only wanted a bosom,
to hide his face,
Forget all the disgrace,
So he clung on to people,
Holding their fingers,
They led him to a place,
He got bruises and cuts,
But never did he mind,
Because he knew what it was to be left behind,
Running to catch a pace,
He never could match,
So he closed the hatch,
that led him to the past,
He held on to his cart,
And still walked with ones he loved,
Falling and tripping,
Into puddle of big men,
Just looking for his Zen,
The bruises and cuts followed,
With a smile he swallowed,
The pain was that to come,
Skipping and bouncing,
And then they let go,
His heart started pouncing,
He then lost his way,
He had debts to pay,
He searched and searched and searched,
The lanes he walked alone,
The evil began to lurk,
He ran with all his strength,
Only to fall again,
There it was his old friend pain,
But he got himself up,
No crutches did he need,
An ego to feed,
He started to run,
And again it was fun,
He found another cart,
And more hands to hold,
But bow he was bold,
That even if they let go,
He had the strength to show,
That he can walk alone,
And hold someone's hand,
Play his own summer band,
For he will never let go,
He can take another blow.

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, January 23, 2013



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