I am a Poem, silly and short
just like my writer’s life.
just like my writer’s life.
I am the Ink of tears,
clotting in his eyes.
clotting in his eyes.
I am the pain he weeps,
I am the night he sleeps.
I am the night he sleeps.
I know he hates me,
reason, I am telling this to you.
I know he will kill me after few words,
I know I will die just like caged birds.
I know I will die just like caged birds.
Yet, I will stick with the truth.
I will cry out loud…
I will cry out loud…
The state of my writer…
The state of my broken fighter…
The state of my broken fighter…
He is alone, He wants a heart…
He had many, but he got hurt…
He had many, but he got hurt…
He won’t say it, he won’t even write it
Even if he writes, he will lite it
Even if he writes, he will lite it
Here he came, to kill me too.
I had more to tell, whatever I know.
I had more to tell, whatever I know.
Pen won against the words.
I died, the poem unheard.
I died, the poem unheard.
-Himanshu Appie Chhabra
the 4th line needs a "his" instead of "her"
ReplyDeleteoops....Edited
ReplyDelete