Upon My Death Bed Poem by Bidisha Panda Mukherjee

Who am I? What was I to be?
Questions come and questions go,
What prevails is the silence of thoughts.

Demands, expectations and dreams
All cloud the mind,
What remains is a foggy realization of self loath.

Down the memory lane I walk,
skip, jump, trot and stroll –
Only to realize disappointments and crashed hopes

My entire life, I lived to crib and cry!
To complain, and to lament,
So many believes were shattered,
Dreams remain unfulfilled-

What survives on my death bed -
is my last wish to live it all once more!