Pieces fallen one by one
Of her shattered heart
Between hopes and happiness
She lost everything she had
A long kept promise was finally broken
Together to grow old was their wish
But he ran a bit ahead of time
While she sleeps alone sobbing on her bed
He rests peacefully inside his coffin.
Dressed in torn clothes,
With a grimace of the face,
Uttering words of plead,
Roams around the old hungry beggar,
His skin wrapped around his bones,
With hardly any flesh in between.
Asking people for few coins,
So that he can feed himself some food ,
What else can he spend his money for,
A few coins won’t buy him anything,
Summer, winter or rain, everything is the same,
No shelter on his head, no place to reside.
“Why don’t you work? ”
“He’ll spend the money in evil”
Are the remarks of the miserly people,
Who spend their life in comfort and peace ,
Who cannot comprehend what poverty is,
Hiding behind sarcastic remarks,
All they do is save their money,
For who likes to give things for free?
In this world of greed and lust of money,
With a hope to get some pennies;
from the comfortably living wealthy beggars,
Roams around the poor hungry beggar.
A dehydrated champion
splashing some water on his face
standing tall amid a fierce attack
killing every deadly blow with beauty
slashing at the low ones, cutting the high ones,
like an artist giving life to his canvas.
an undeniable promise of a bright future
with high hopes and big wings,
gliding through the clouds of success,
yet another day it was, holding strong he was,
one moment of rush and he fell on the ground,
waves of panic and worries flooded all around
with the prayers of the whole world behind
undefeated all his life, he lost his final fight,
but in a much better place, now he resides,
away from all the worries and troubles of this life,
in the hearts of ours he willl always reside,
as a young man with an overdose of talent,
Rest in peace dear young lad,
you’ll forever remain not out at sixty three.
Tangled between emotions
Her feelings ignite the passion
The soft melody of her breathe
Melts in the warmth of her hug
A feeling of eternal bliss
Her love pouring down like heavy rain
Wetting every dry inch of the heart.
Sprouting on the wretched soul,
Songs of harmony and love.
A breeze of freshness she is,
An unexpected drizzle of delight,
How many more wonderful things she is,
it is just so hard to describe.
This too shall pass,
Yet another assurance to give,
But, still the same old chores.
A mundane soul wanders around,
Buried under mediocrity and overwhelm,
Breathing upon self condolences
That hardly last any long
A search for self peace, becomes
yet another matter of stress.
Never mind the extra burden,
A detour, a short break, little smiles,
Few moments of delight,
But, everything becomes null,
As arrives yet another dreadful night,
For tomorrow anxiously awaits,
The same old mundane routine.
This too shall pass, this too shall pass,
the feeling of hollowness,
flowing through the blood.
resonance of a palpitating heart,
striking in the empty body shell.
fear gushing through the vein,
choking every cell of hope.
in the darkness of a brightly-lit room,
continues the vain search for life.
February 13 Shoulda, woulda, coulda Tell us about something you know you should do . . . but don’t.
So many blessings,
the man is blessed with,
yet in his desire to have more,
in his greed to be superior,
in his lust of wealth and fame,
he transgresses all his limits,
in a world where there should
have existed peace and tranquility
we find blood and tyranny
for man has forgotten the blessings
he has been bestowed upon
and all he thinks is to steal
the blessings of others
Disclaimer : I never claimed to be a good poet but lately the poems I write are nothing but trash, I understand it, but that is the whole point of this writing challenge to push myself. The prompts are not meant for Poetry but yet each day I try to write something on these mundane prompts and that for me is something special. Thanks for reading anyways.