The darkness closes in, enveloping my doubts,
splitting the voices inside me like threads.
Temporary relief
knowing it will soon return.
Tag Archives: Poetry
Vivid Moments
I remember the moment vividly,
The Moment of despair,
Realizing that I am so different from others,
Belittled by society,
That looks down on different ones.
Mother Earth
Others call me an orphan,
but that’s not what I believe.
My mother is always around me,
whether I’m in Anchorage or Surat.
Mother
She walks in and says “Good Morning”
And flashes her charming smile without a warning
Her gorgeous eyes stare with a charismatic glow
As she says “Darling, won’t you say hello?”
Japan – An experience of a lifetime!
In Japan, I found myself again,
From busy but clean streets,
To lush and green countryside.
A land so busy, yet so calm,
It was so bright, so clean,
With the Cherry blossom’s gentle breeze.
An Idiom Party
I was as busy as a bee,
But then my brother started to iron my head.
I just hoped he wouldn’t spill the beans,
I sat silently, filled with dread.
Late for School
Chaos frolicked around my home as I was late
At school the teacher would scold me, what would be my fate?
I gobbled up my breakfast and rushed out the door
And that’s when I realised my project was lying on the floor.
The Power In Voicing The Unvoiced
Since time immemorial, poetry has been regarded as one of the vital modes of communication. Its significance is unparalleled as it transcends time and culture, serving as a timeless testament to a plethora of emotions. As we navigate the vast and complex realities of life, poetry emerges as a steadfast mode of expression, offering solace, comfort, insight, and a profound yet subtle connection between poets and their readers.
I Will Rise
Anyone can put me down,
Still, no one will see me frown.
Bitterness will not affect me,
Sweetness will always attract me.
For the Love of Verse
I was in the 7th grade when I had to recite a poem on stage. That was my first solo performance. My deep-rooted stage fear had always prevented me from volunteering for any events, except maybe a play where I could blend in with the crowd. But then, I selected Wordsworth’s Daffodils and stuttered my way through the entire recitation, despite days and hours of preparation. I don’t remember much except for the flush that enveloped my ears, making it feel as if I was reciting from the seabed. Yet, my love affair with poetry continued unabated despite this fiasco.
I cannot travel by train without recalling Stevenson’s From a Railway Carriage, nor can I let a brook pass by without remembering Tennyson’s “Men may come and men may go, but I go on forever.”