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Anamika Singh Poem
War here, war there.
Fighting over what — long gone.
We remain a fly on the wall,
hands tied, mouth shut —
yet it all echoes in those cries.
Victory somewhere, despair elsewhere.
A son comes home; a son lies six feet under.
Again, to win — over what?
Is that really a win?
God didn’t make countries or thrones;
God made humans — with heart and soul.
Yet we remain a fly on the wall,
hands tied, mouth shut.
Copyright © anamika singh | Year Posted 2025
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Anamika Singh Poem
I cry quietly.
Only my pillow knows.
My heart aches, and pain strikes.
What's wrong with me? I don't know.
I wished someone told me so.
A hundred thoughts going at once,
It doesn't feel good even once.
What's wrong with me? I don't know.
I wished someone told me so.
Feeling all my loved ones
Hate me all at once,
Feeling the breath of despair hitting my soul.
What's wrong with me? I don't know.
I wished someone told me so.
Suddenly, I let out,
But it doesn't come out all at once.
Trying to find good things,
But the war is on (mind).
What's wrong with me? I don't know.
I wished someone told me so.
In the end process, I still have a sparkling hope
Which will turn into a blinding light.
I have faith in so.
It comes out nothing was ever wrong with me ever so—
Just some bitter moments
And wrong people in the road.
I will not say much but only this:
To whoever who might be reading this,
You are not alone on this beautiful road.
You have you and the mighty ones
Loving you and cheering you up.
Just close your eyes and take a breath—
In the end, it'll all be a bliss.
Copyright © anamika singh | Year Posted 2025
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Anamika Singh Poem
What do I do with all the love
I had left?
What do I do with all the things unsaid?
What do I do with all the lies,
spun so well?
With my love just hanging there,
for a ghost never meant to stay —
all my love, unsaid.
Copyright © anamika singh | Year Posted 2025
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Anamika Singh Poem
it's hard and heavy the light is dim
what was supposed to be a sanctuary
is suffocating.
the soldier has fought and thrashed
and given his breathes
it's hard and heavy the light is dim
the fight is over
the soldier doesn't want to be in.
thus he wins ?
Copyright © anamika singh | Year Posted 2026
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Anamika Singh Poem
Twirling midst, the birds, pink, blue, and green
The town gathered big gowns, fluffed and puffed.
Hairs pinned and beauty queen style
Purple lavender in my trimmings
Hoots! They thrum, louder and closer with every spinning step.
Violins humming pianos orchestrating
Hands on waist, gaze softening, one falling, twirling, fast step to step.
Her scent wafts through her hair.
All on his mind and beyond
Beats fastening colours, curtains, and violins
Lovers, friends, twirling, tapping
Changing, the gaze lingers on the room from afar.
Music softens the ending.
Prinsee slips away to her garden.
Copyright © anamika singh | Year Posted 2026
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Anamika Singh Poem
I love nights—
deep, blue, silent.
It’s just me and the night.
Everything asleep, distant, quiet.
I love nights—
deep, blue, silent.
Copyright © anamika singh | Year Posted 2025
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