I miss you...

 

Miss you..

Absorbing the coolness of water,

I sprawled by the riverside...

My mind was busy rambling over some precious thoughts..

thoughts of friendship, and of childhood...

An unknown smile ejected from my delicate heart..

Even at this point of joyfulness..

My heart complained.....

"I MISS YOU"...

Amongst the greenery, I strolled aimlessly,

I never craved for friendship..

Never had a friend dearest to my heart,

I was my best friend in solitude..

I enjoyed, cried, celebrated lonely...

At this juncture, once again..

My heart complained....

"I MISS YOU"

As you entered my life....

I saw my wide world differently..

I loved to have someone to care for me,

You were my first friend who made me believe,..

FRIENDSHIP IS SWEETER THAN LONELINESS...

You ensured my heart never complained...

You proved friendship keeps closer to many hearts....

But.. still... "I MISS U"

Autumn

the distant cry

the distant cry

from within

desire to sweep the past

with sunrise’s fast arrival...

to

let the time’s tolls be due

let flowers reek, 

perfume somehow

red, crimson and blue 

wipe the sweat of my brow

forget the loathe-some

of a long distant occurrence

with demise of thoughts 

of desperate dreams

manifestations

of things gone astray…

yes twas once autumn

lovely autumn

twas autumn

the distant cry

wipe the sweat of my brow

forget the loathe-some

of a long distant occurrence

with demise of thoughts 

of desperate dreams

manifestations

of things gone astray…

she gives her lessons

the messsage of rejuvenation

I do hope 

does autumn somehow convey 

hopefully many more 

lovelier autumns 

will come your way...

Life is a book

It’s not that easy to link up pages,

to the recent histories of lives,

The more you read the more is the doubt,

wherever it takes is the pre written form,

cannot be kept in our skull for long,

it does aback in every single show,

and again you baffle through another row,

those darkened nights never leave your way,

because one cannot link up pages again…

The true meaning behind most poetry

A poem is a girl who often cries. 

A poem is a boy who occationaly lies. 

A poem is invisable to the naked eye, 

and it always makes people wonder why. 

A poem can inspire people to write,

or cause others to stand up and fight. 

A poem is unseen for so many days,

and can be read in so many ways. 

A poem is a poem, but thats not all.

The words in a poem may teach us all.