At half past five
I sit alone on a hot stove
still awake,While sleep
bothers me, I sit down
to write about myself
Crossed over two thousand kms
cast away in a distinct land.
A city of hearts
a place of fortune
city of activity
clusters of fast-pacers
mix of religions
sangamam of regions
so complex and severe they are.
I don’t find a single heart for me
When problems arrive at my door step
I knock my door to my past
When pain and loneliness overtakes me
I remember my mother
I never thought of her
Before I am thrown away
In a distant land
A wise man rightly said
Distance gets you closer.
It did.
3 comments:
gud 1 but it's just a matter of thinkin..u can always make a home away frm home.
Its always right.....there surely is a feeling of loneliness..
sagar..... ur poem is mind blowing seriously... the way u thought of the instances is simply ingenious... hats off to you... u never showed this to me..!!!
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