When I’ll Die Poem by pallvi sharma
When I’ll Die
Who’ll cry when I’ll die?
Everything was illusion and nothing was mine.
Some relations get better with time like a old wine,
But, why was my partner so bind? ?
Everything is so secretly confined,
If only could make my life little refined.
Some are afraid of night and some eagerly wait for loss of light.
I too have some fears of mine,
But quite shy to accept…
Or my ego stops me to confess? ?
Like a child am lost in complete mess.
Living in imaginary world,
Which neither begins nor ends…
But, trying hard to join both the ends.
If ever I could make a perfect bend.
When the leaves of memories will dry…
Who will cry, when I’ll die? ?
Pallavi, your concept was very good. But this poem needs some pruning and more clarity. First I thought this was like my poem MY DARK NIGHTS. But a little bit veered away. Keep writing. Good luck.
There would be many to cry... This world loves the Dead not the Alive... A beauttiful expression in a simple way...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 5:10:53 PM # 1.0.0.1119
scroching pain...bful wrds... a 10 +