Sep
13
I was the one who has been long in the city pent,
Life in days years and month it spent.
Over materials and matter there was a reef,
Vacant sometimes, emotions at others the heart plead.
Everyday fighting with my own attic to survive,
Usual days and the struggle to keep the spirits alive.
Pestering the soul with hopes to revive,
Reliving the past kindling the old delight,
Imagining the victory of self over thy might.
Yearning from past filling roars in shambles,
Another meek spectator ready to face world’s scramble.
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Tags: Life, Love, Philosophy
prats it seems like this poem is especially customized for me …these placement days are a bit tough to handle dear and every word of your poem conveys what i am going through…
nice…think of wht u’ll get after u succeed in facing the scramble….
he he he fir ek depressing poem dude..Get a life….or get a wife…