Author: Hemakshi Khanchandani, Class X C
The sky above, painted with clouds,
Dark and grey, arranged in crowds.
They cry and weep, creating sorrow,
Leaving no promise of a bright tomorrow.
The winds blow, fast and fierce,
Mirroring a sorrowful tune, which has played on for years.
The fuel of hope, now runs out,
Leaving a path, filled with doubt.
But look! A beam of light,
Piercing the dark, a ray so bright.
The clouds, now they part,
Reigniting the hope, in my heart.
And now I see a sight divine,
An arch of colours, a cheerful sign.
So stay hopeful my friend,
for the darkness is sure to end.
Then, you will see the brightness following through,
And the flame of faith will start anew.
We are mosaics, shattered and broken,
Our wounds and experiences, many unspoken.
These bits and pieces, unappealing in the light,
The memories which trace them, something I can’t fight.
There is no beauty in those jagged lines,
Or that is what I thought.
Scars resurface displeasing memories,
And they leave us distraught.
And while that may be true,
They were what we survived.
Those blemishes were what we fought,
Something through which we thrived.
These marks we wear, a badge of grace,
These wounds we have,
A thing to embrace.
For these pieces are joined with gold,
An ancient story, each one of them told.
So, try to accept all these gaps,
And one will find grace in the cracks.
