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M.D. Sowmya Poem
My love,
I was loving you like the root of a sweet potato—
tied to the heart,
but never to the feelings.
Let’s meet again in another lifetime.
That time,
I’ll be the one to find you first,
and I’ll hold your hand
before the world can take you away.
Copyright © M.D. Sowmya | Year Posted 2025
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M.D. Sowmya Poem
It was a bright day—
I was walking down the street
when I saw him.
Headphones on,
a smile resting easy on his face—
as if even the smile
was drawn to him.
He walked past me
like I wasn’t there.
But I froze,
turned back…
and giggled.
Copyright © M.D. Sowmya | Year Posted 2025
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M.D. Sowmya Poem
I was at war,
fighting for my nation.
Blood stained the ground,
the sounds of guns and bombs
pierced our ears—
like ominous words carved in the air.
When I lifted my head,
I saw us fighting with one hand,
while others already lay lifeless.
Our families prayed,
hoped we’d return safely.
But as I looked at the sky,
time stopped for a breath.
And I whispered—
“God, even if we lose our lives for the nation,
be with our families.
Give them hearts of stone,
so they will never regret
the prayers they made for us.”
Copyright © M.D. Sowmya | Year Posted 2025
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M.D. Sowmya Poem
Sometimes love is unrequited—
sometimes it shines,
like the moon and the stars.
But what if it’s siblings
who carry that silence?
A single word
separating five years of life.
Like wood that’s been broken—
no matter how many times
you saw, sand, and repair,
it never regains
its original shape.
And so we live,
close in blood,
but disfigured in heart.
_____________
Copyright © M.D. Sowmya | Year Posted 2025
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M.D. Sowmya Poem
I hated him,
fought with him,
threw words sharp enough to cut.
I called him a psycho,
as if he was
and he—
he just nodded,
as if guilt was his to bear.
He took my beatings,
my storms,
without a single strike back.
And when I broke,
when tears came like floodwater,
he didn’t turn away.
He pulled me close,
patted my hair,
and whispered,
“It’s okay… I will be with you.”
That was the moment,
like Tom understanding Jerry,
we stopped being enemies—
and became something more.
Copyright © M.D. Sowmya | Year Posted 2025
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M.D. Sowmya Poem
Have you seen women,
pushing life uphill
like Sisyphus—
without rest, without freedom?
They birth us,
they work even when their bodies ache.
They serve as if they are waiters
in a restaurant of endless demands.
They do not ask for joy,
they do not demand a pause.
Instead, they whisper prayers
for their family’s well-being—
faithful as devotees before a shrine.
And we—
children, husbands, in-laws—
what have we done?
Did we ever tell them:
“Rest today.
Live for yourself, if only for a moment.”
Even as their souls grow weary,
they keep giving.
So let us lighten their load—
a small help,
a little kindness,
so they may taste freedom,
even if only for a few minutes.
Copyright © M.D. Sowmya | Year Posted 2025
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M.D. Sowmya Poem
I hid my feelings,
but whenever I saw you
they poured out like a fountain—
a sudden sparkle,
a beauty I couldn’t contain.
Copyright © M.D. Sowmya | Year Posted 2025
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M.D. Sowmya Poem
I think this one-sided crush
will fade like the waves in the ocean—
loud when they reach the shore,
but forgotten as they fall back into silence.
Copyright © M.D. Sowmya | Year Posted 2025
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M.D. Sowmya Poem
I saw many people
sitting on the road,
begging to continue their lives
like a child yearning for her favorite toy.
Some pass them by,
some offer money, food, or kindness,
but many remain ignored,
sitting in the cold, the heat, the dust, the trash—
as if death were better.
These people were not born beggars.
They are mothers of children,
fathers of families,
elders pushed out from their homes.
Have we ever wondered
how they feel when we ignore them?
Some are young, strong enough to work,
even when exhausted.
Some are forced into survival instead of study,
stripped of opportunities they deserve.
Even one small act—
teaching them, offering food or shelter for a day—
can be a godlike blessing in their life.
We are not rich,
but a simple gesture,
a shared meal,
warm clothes,
a hand extended—
can let them live, even just for a moment.
Some beg with their children in their arms;
their lives are like thunder striking the earth.
Help them.
Let them live.
Let them feel joy,
even once.
Copyright © M.D. Sowmya | Year Posted 2025
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M.D. Sowmya Poem
Is it worth—
to bare our love to another?
Sometimes, yes.
Sometimes, no.
I stand on both sides,
watching lovers in the world.
At times, I want to fall—
as deep as the sky itself,
without worry,
like a rainbow shining after rain.
But then I wonder:
Should I love at all?
And if I do,
can I ever marry the one I love?
Love feels unexplainable,
like reaching out to embrace a demon—
one with no heart.
Yet still,
some dive into that abyss,
drowning willingly.
So tell me—
is love sweet, or is it bitter?
A gift, or a wound?
Can it carry us into marriage,
and beyond,
or will it scatter like dust
in the end?
Copyright © M.D. Sowmya | Year Posted 2025
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