Biography of Shruti Kumar
Well, I am a 13 year-old, girl who certainly
enjoys writing poems with quite strange meanings even at a tender age. I am here, on this website so that I can improve my skills in poetry writing. Poems I have written
so far may not be very impressive but I do intend to learn more.
Shruti Kumar Poems
Time Is The Essence Of Life!
Time is the essence of everything, Sorrow and happiness, both it will bring, All you have to do is watch and wait; For time will open every gate.
2012,8th Of March (A Birthday Poem)
Around fourteen years ago, Neither the sun had set nor did the moon glow; A sweet, little princess came here down, In this world, when the angels took a blissful bow!
A Priceless Year!
It was only a year ago, When an eventful jaunt started, A course to learn and grow; With you and just a septet.
A Friend So Dear (A Birthday Poem)
15 years ago you were out on a jaunt, A journey of life, a mission of want. To change the world a little by little; Sometimes smooth, sometimes fickle.
A Truly Incredible Day! (A Birthday Poem...
Hope when you woke up today, The sunshine showed its way, Through the darkness of night and sadness, To enlighten this incredible day with its brightness!
One Awaited Reply?
Swept off by your smile, Across your grin, I traced a 'hi'. Then also I was- awaiting one - awaited reply.
My Dedicated Mother
You are someone, in front of whom I don't have to pretend; Your warmness is better than a friend! You keep me just in line, whether whilst scolding or stories of bedtime.
Farewell Is Yet To Come
I wonder how that day will be- When destiny will separate them and me. Remember I will, the sound of the ringing bell, Even after the day of my farewell.
Strange Things Are!
Strange things are; Neither close, nor too far. But there resides a time unknown, Memories of which, secured in a jar.
Strange Things Are!
Strange things are;
Neither close, nor too far.
But there resides a time unknown,
Memories of which, secured in a jar.
Seriously strange things are;
Destination reachable, not by foot, not by car.
But there dwells a thing unknown,
Memories of which, twinkles a star.