I am so very proud to present on this blog today, a poem written by my little baby sister. As I finished reading the poem the first time, my eyes were filled with tears and pride. To me, she’s better than everything today, and I wish her luck for all her life…. Stuti
A struggle to be born
A challenge to walk
A task to listen
The need to talk
The day he walks,he listens,he talks
He starts to study and grasp and learn
He eats to live,as opposed to before
He comes to know me life’s twists and turns
He stretches,he flexes
He runs and shoots
As soon as he gains his senses
Thats when he outgrows his boots
His brain works overtime
In search of his “goal”
He takes advice and gives some
To reach the top of the pole
He says, “all i want is happiness”
But his claim is oh so wrong
Coz what he yearn for, is power
For which he dreads hours long.
Through paths of misery he’ll slog,
Not a squeal of pain,
Turning the wheels of cog,
And drenching in sweat rain.
A car outrunning a truck,
A cycle overtaking another,
A runner taking over his rival,
The former always feels evil pleasure.
What are the terms of his “happiness”
Be it loadful or mere?
If to him,all that matters is power
Then be a man,and to it swear!
He aims too high,
He wishes to never see down under,
He wishes to defeat the wind,
He wishes to frighten the thunder.
Once in power,he wanders off on his own
Drifts into a world of papers and stones,
Which he proclaims proudly as luxury
And ‘Priceless’,he calls them,seated on a throne.
He grows and grows
In not just power, but also pride
To the world, he shows his hind
And his self is washed away by this tide.
He challenges one
He challenges all
He challenges the rising
He challenges the ones who fall.
But one amongst the ridiculed, answers his pride
He says,’oh mighty
With all due respect to your “power”, may I in you confide-
‘he who sits at the top of the ladder,
With his eyes too rigid, too unkind to look down and gaze,
Becomes unknown to the number of wrungs beneath
Or the support or competition, just in case!!!