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A confused small kid…
Who resisted the internal rupture.By changing themrather letting them get changedKilling everything that makes me- Me.
(You are not making it any easier this way...)
Killing the person who got troubled by anything he felt wrong.
Anything which could turn him off...SentimentalChildishEmotional freak…Who wants to look good and do good.A confused small kid…
I did it!Became a sublime diplomatSuaveProfessional
BlatantUntouched, unhurt and even cruel.
I was a believerI turned agnostic.From conventional to contemporaryDress sense changed.
Music changed.Life style changed.This was good.But somewhere the person changed.(You tried to be my friend without knowing what I am or may be.)
I want that confused look back in my eyes.I want to trust people.I want to give them their fair share in my life.
I want to be sentimental once again.I want to love u.
Seriously I want to love u.
| Picture credits: Morbid melancholia, 2005, wash and ink on Handmade by Kumar Ashutosh |
A poem so meaningful. Thanks for posting this poem. It reminds me of many things.
ReplyDeleteThank you Aditya. It reminds me of a childhood as well
DeleteTo grow up before you have to, to lose your innocence, to become a skeptic and let mistrust seep into your soul - nothing more tragic than that.. Deeply touching!
ReplyDeleteyep. :-(
DeleteM feeling nostalgic... Thanks bro
ReplyDeleteSad if you can connect to this.
DeleteBeautiful Poem and nostalgic too.
ReplyDeleteLovely and meaningful .
ReplyDeletea terrific piece of ART :)
ReplyDeleteif you are talking about the painting, thanks. it was made with ink and watercolor on handmade paper
DeleteIt strikes a chord, We build a wall around ourselves, and wear many masks, sometimes to please people, to make ourselves 'suitable'. and sometimes to defend our fragile selves, so that no body can have access to our inner core and so less chances of getting hurt. Whatever may be the reason, innocence of simple belief is lost. This poem is haunting.
ReplyDelete@Meenakshi It is haunting indeed. The build up of this poem still haunts all of us.
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