Me, myself, mine.
Do these words even matter?
Me, my life, my ambitions,
To others is a jest.
And how they step on my dreams!
Trample the fabric of love,
Selfish they leave it in tatters.
No matter what I do, would I ever please them enough? !
No more do I want to try,
To make them see the sun rise from my side.
I give up, now I’ll become one with them.
Just as they expect me to exist.
In that, maybe one day,
I would find the lost happiness…
Bitterness of the poet is quite evident in this poem. But, you are wrong, aditi; why should you follow the mob around you to simply exist? ? ? Not understandable, dear; life is to live to the fullest possible and NOT TO exist.
Very good write! Its the questions that are important, not the answers..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
And i could'nt agree more..This poem was written by me when i was stuck in one of those phases. I would like to share another poem with you 'of beginnings and endings', a recent work which reflect my re-instated beliefs.