'Transition' - Poem by Anonymous Pen
All started with an oblivion,
the past life's sufferings, glories, fear no where to be seen,
it revives the 'old' with a cry say the innocent yet grown,
then comes obscurity which brings our very own
dark hour of reasoning.
Along comes the bounting cunning
groaning, smiling freedom
life is all so good, with no boredom
never a doom nor a dimout loom,
sombre days will boom
inner' being a selfish doom.
Learning is the ultimate room
with which you should boon,
success doesnt come being a toon
hard-ship sailed in waters of blood and goon
leads to the creation of the silver spoon.
But soon after this june
will come the saner noon,
reminiscing the old yet familiar feeling of the innocent oblivion-
''he sent me with a purpose! ''.
To devour this humanly hour
in the play on this anthropoid stage,
never to forget the joy in the transition
of becoming a lumber from a pure amber.
It'll come to you once
relish it with every ounce
of cry and wry, joy and toy...
Comments about 'Transition' by Anonymous Pen
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You