Tag: Poem

Yes, they will judge,
Coz there’s nothing they can do to be judged for
Yes, they will criticize
Coz they’ve got nothing better to do
Yes, they will hurt
Coz that’s what broken people do
Yes, they will destroy
Coz they are inhuman
Yes, they will tease
Coz they are used to being useless
But only a few will compliment,
Coz they really care
Only a few will trust,
Coz they know you’re worth it
Only a few will stay,
Coz they respect valued people
Only a few will advise,
Coz they want you to be happy
Only a few will stand up for you
Coz they don’t want to hurt you
Only a few will love,
Coz they know what you deserve

Back into trenches,
Back to the void;
Fought and screeched and screamed to flee,
Only to be dragged back into its way.

The reminiscing horrors of death,
The agony at heart;
Leave me, oh dear, leave me
For I yearn to stay;

Let us thrive,
For once, let me survive;

I beg thee, to let our
Eyes meet orb’s floret,
and
Ears meet bird’s croon,
let us,
Possess a shard of hope,
And
Longer see the Sol;
I beg thee to let ‘em grow,
Not banish all fancies of the little grown.

I beg and I beg,
Let the mothers embrace their sons longer
Let wives hug their love longer and
Let the child feel the yearned clasp longer.

For once just forget the treachery,
forget the blood,
and
forget the battlefield
For once see the innocence,
See in their eyes, the love and tear;
I beg thee to cease.
No more war please.

No tears,
No corpses;
No more,
I beg thee, no more

I beg thee,
Anything in the world shall thou do,
But wage carnage;
Just to leave ages in ravage.

In London town where shadows dance,
A blitz unfolds, a daring chance.
Beneath the moon, in wartime’s might,
Courage blooms in the darkest night.

Above the city, metal wings unfurl,
Thundering engines, a menacing swirl.
Silver birds, with purpose profound,
Roar through the night, a deafening sound.

The sirens wail, a haunting cry,
Yet brave hearts soar, determined sky.
In alleyways, beneath cobblestone,
Heroes rise, their valor known.

Through smoke and fire, they boldly tread,
In the blitz’s chaos, where fear is shed.
With buckets of courage, they stand tall,
Resistant spirits, risking all.

The skyline ablaze, a fiery sea,
Yet resilience roars, wild and free.
In London’s heart, the blitz may rage,
But courage writes a different page.

Poem 1
Some beautiful creations

Look at the sky looking so blue
From where he gets his beautiful colour from, I have no clue.

Look at the Sun peeping at us all from the mountain slope
Bringing with him a new hope.

Look at the mountains so white and bright
Shimmering in the Sun’s golden light.

Look at the grass standing high and tall
The ones who cannot see this beautiful view I pity them all.

Look at the butterflies fluttering around joyfully even in this heat
Oh! They are trying to dance to my drum’s beat.

Look at the beach facing the sea
This looks like a beautiful painting to me.

This is a scene, which nobody should ever miss
How clever is god who has created all this.

 

Poem 2
A man in a black cape

Did I not work hard, or did I just make a mistake?
All my friends thought that it was a piece of cake.

Did I not burn the midnight oil? When feeling sleepy, taping my eyes with tape
I describe failure as my biggest enemy in a black cape.

“Oh, is he really”? I asked myself
Yes, he is because he always makes me cry for help.

Whenever I try to get up, he pushes me down
Stopping me from reaching that golden crown.

But every time I get back up, I have learned something new
Now, all my learnings stand there like a hundred-foot statue.

Then one day he said happily
“I have finally made you realize the reality”.

Just before disappearing, he said, “Learning from your mistakes is the only key”
Oh man in the black cape, are you a friend or an enemy?

Poem 3
Illusions

Are we even real?
Or someone has made us just for their zeal?

Does this universe really exist?
Or all of it is just a mist.

Is it all an illusion?
Well, that is a question.

Are we all a part of a bigger play?
How big it is nobody can ever say.

Do we wake up after we die?
And before this, all of us were tied.

Is our real life all dark?
In our dreams, we are dreaming of a big colourful park.

Is our real life all just a dream?
The reality is yet to be seen.

You have already cut a whole forest,
Are you going to burn excessive coal too?
Humans, we know you’re not so innocent or modest,
Let’s take an oath to start life anew!

Plant a tree and cut down on plastic,
Then you’ll find greenery in every corner you see.
Buy your needs, don’t succumb to your greeds,
That’s what Mother Earth needs.

Nature is beautiful and humble,
Strive to conserve it or your future will crumble.
Sustainable development is the key to life,
Follow the Golden R’s and the world will thrive.

You might have read this title and imagined a 6th grader staring at the window, with the occasional liquid pearl-like raindrop falling. It’s safe to say that it’s quite the understatement, as barrels and barrels of water crashed down from the side of my building, splattering against the window, and leaking onto the floor, while an annoyed sixth grader highlighted a page from some printed out summaries, feeling tired, hungry, and cross. That sixth grader was me.
Many kids-correction-all kids would simply love to snuggle into warm, fluffy blankets, on a rainy day, sip hot chocolate that trickled down their throat in cinnamon streams, and bringing with it warm and fuzzy feelings that spread from head to toe, stuff their mouth with endless pakodas, watch television or read a good book, and feel warm, clean, and simply amazing.
ATTENTION TAARINI KASBEKAR, PLEASE REPORT BACK TO PLANET STUDIES!!!!
And…. It all comes crashing down. My highlighter ink, leaking, covering my hand in yellow, seemed to have teamed up with the weather to make me miserable. Half the words on the page have dissolved into fuzzy black streams, (figuratively, not literally) and not even a quarter has penetrated my thick skull. *sighs*. What wouldn’t I rather be doing than sitting here, revising stuff that no one needs to know *exaggeration alert!*. You may be wondering why I’m writing this in present tense, it’s because it’s happening now, as I simultaneously type this, hoping my mother doesn’t catch me.
Why did it seem that even the heavens went out of their way to be mad at us and exact some sort of revenge? Not that I did anything wrong. I think. Does stealing sweets out of the fridge count? Now there’s nothing more to say, unless you want to hear about misprints, dropped pencils and missing pens (I suspect my little brother). Sorry for all this complaining, it’s just that I hope you’ve learnt a lesson from this-NEVER be a sixth grader on a rainy day.

Trees have been man’s best friends,
For hundreds of thousands of years
They have been the source of natural shelter,
And sweet, rejuvenating pears

They provide cool, refreshing shade
Above small country chapels
They provide us with priceless oxygen
And syrup from the tall maple

However, despite various efforts,
And environmentalists’ constant sessions
Mother Earth is suffering from deforestation,
Global warming and its repercussions

Together, let us all make a difference
Without any further delay,
Let us save trees, save earth or else
For their actions, mankind will pay.

There rose something from Pandora’s box,
Something that definitely isn’t available in shops,

That little thing that will wish for everyone’s best,
That little thing that will take care of everything rest.
It will be the guide like an antenna if you’re in a dilemma.
Yes, it is hope, the last thing ever lost,

If you are in a forest, it will be the one to guide you out.
Stuck in a tunnel oh so deep, hope will be the one to conceive like a technique.
Hope will never be antique.

A blend of optimism and willpower helps us fulfill all our desires, a corneal power.
A specific route you develop to meet your goals,
Hope is that pathway that fills your mind, heart, and soul.

Hope itself is not an emotion, something that can be taught.
A wish you have no control over, but isn’t it better than just being distraught?

The more positive the ‘hope’ emotion, the stronger the sense of purpose and meaning,
The lower the levels of depression and a little more devotion.
This will result in less loneliness and more quotients.
Hope is the belief that your future will be better than today,
You’ll be able to make it happen, you will display.

If you lose hope, remember you’re not alone,
Reaching out to loved ones will help you face the unknown.
Hope is that something that rose from Pandora’s box,
Something that definitely isn’t available in shops.

Hope, my strongest weapon;
My accurate guide, my loyal friend;
My support, in the darndest toils.

Hope,
what kept me taut, Kept me sturdy, Kept me strong;
Kept me ALIVE.

My only lamp in the milky night sky;
The only shadow by my side.

With me, at my deepest dilemma;
At the wildest havoc.

My hope is the last thing to ever lose.
It is the dew of my leaves;
Beat of my heart, flame in my fire;
Peace of my soul.

Hope was what had me breathing.
I shall not let the soul of mine whine or cry, nor shall it ever vanish;
When my hope is striving, to come to meaning,
Each faith of mine rejuvenates with light.

My hope was the food, water and shelter in the deserted abyss of this world;
Hope was the one, who never took back its hand through my life.

It is the spirit to my soul;
The ladder through the void to the heaven;
My stairs of faith, from dream to reality.

My hope is the last thing that could ever be lost.
Because it is the other half who lets me attain integrity.

Who said life’s going to be tough?
But why do you expect it to be a cake walk?
Nothing is hard, when there’s a genuine will.

Let the world be,
Be who you shall be.

Why memorize the words of others,
Make your own dictionary.

Why do you have to chase those worries,
When
Peace open armed stands by your side.

Why do you believe what is false,
Then hearing my truth?

I know life is not easy, not appealing, not always the way you desire,
but that’s the thrill.

Remember, to DO it. Face the fear,
laugh at it as it crumbles to nothing.

Do what no one thought,
let those who underestimated you,
gaze at you in awe.

Maturing needn’t be pleasant, nor as smooth as you thought,
But know that it’s not as rough as we fear.

You worked, so keep going,
don’t let these mischievous demons
let in nor soil your potential.

Kick ‘em off, you have a life uncharted,
Write it on your own, with your own hands.
For your own path.