Dedicated to the victims
On this bench sits a little girl;
With hope in her eyes and questions about the world.
She looks left, she looks right;
She then frowns to find no one around her.
She violently pins some papers on the cardboard;
Bits and pieces of it which fly aimlessly on the road.
She rests the notepad on her lap;
This little heart pumps faster when the events recap.
Legs thump hard on the ground as she runs;
With voice muted and a dried throat she takes aimless turns.
The ghostly man follows her way throughout;
and with his uncomfortable touch, she painfully shouts.
Whom shall she go to? To whom shall she say?
when she sees her loved ones adoring him everyday.
She holds the pen hard and cries desperately to write;
Wordless she goes when she fails to express her plight.
Tears finally dried and face became expressionless;
Unsurprisingly, she is gripped by insecurity and loneliness.
Can she now survive in this world? Can she now take it all alone?
Past was repeated at every walk of life;
It did not surprise me when she first held the knife.
She looked left, she looked right;
She then frowned to have no one to care for her.
When devils wore the mask of friendship,
she killed her every little hope from relationships.
Whom does she have? For whom shall she live?
What can she say when her loved ones stopped to believe.
On this bench now sits a young girl;
With hope in her eyes and questions about the world.
She looks left, she looks right;
She then "smiles" to find no one around her.
Written by Vrushali Deshpande
Words that help express feelings, emotions, and relationships.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Setting You Free
In the shadows of fear, I dwelled for years. Afraid to love, consumed by my tears. But then you appeared like an angel in need. And I found ...
-
Dedicated to T: More often than not, in adulthood—unlike childhood—we wake up groggy and lose touch with our innocent smile. Today, I realiz...
-
Time is money? I do not by any chance intend to get materialistic once again. But talking about time, it does really passes by, and you know...
-
I give maximum hours of my life working for a company which means nothing to me as soon as I get back home. I give to it my patience; I give...
"On this paper, Now I write
ReplyDeleteWith energy in me,creativity in mind
Open a dictionary, a Word to find
Nothing is there,to describe you fine
Keep writing ur imagination on paper...
Sameer Jain
Nickname- Sameer-d-wind
hey vrush...nice poem...i can understand u...
ReplyDeletei couldnt give proper comment on orkut...but u knw wt...this poem rocks man...i really liked it...thank u for sharing it with me
ReplyDeleteThanks to all :)
ReplyDeleteBy the way Sameer, who said it is an imagination?
hey vrushu
ReplyDeletegood one.u know first time i didnt feel sad reading ur material(articles poems). though thers was something in the character that is pinching but she is ready to fight the situation & come out of it which was good.
this is a just a comment on watever i felt after reading ur poem.
regards, darshi
P.S: check ur offline mess in yahoo.
i have been reading ur bloggs scince quite long time.
ReplyDeleteu initially wrote many articles on ur idol. nowdays no such article are seen. anyways... good work as usual.
keep going.
God bless.
good work.
ReplyDeleteTo Darshu,
ReplyDeletethe protagonist is not coming out of it..She is in love with loneliness so much that she now smiles to know that no ones around her.
thank u for ur comment.. and really sorry ...for not havin met for a long time nw....
undisclosed, mysterious yet known communicators elude visits here.
ReplyDeletelet the witty wit crack this code.
The biggest irony is dat d world goes on......... life goes on...... whts constant is you with yourself........ whn u 're neither guilty nor repenting..... ur conscience is crystal clear.... u will go on too !!
ReplyDeleteNo matter wht ..... d source o life's within u...... find it...... live 4 it...... live 4 it !!!