Details |
Shweta S Poem
everyday i get out of my bed,
i step on a red cockroach dead,
i shreik and scream and curse it to rot,
and 'dhooooooooom' on my head falls the flower pot,
for a bath i reach the bathroom,
half asleep i bang my head on the broom,
for the shower, my hand reaches out,
hot water showers on me and i shout,
i run with my clothes to the washing machine to tuen on the motor,
only to realise it is a refrigerator,
oh my gosh...i'm late ..!! i take a taxi ride,
the taxi driver blabbering on my ear side,
to go to the office, i take a train,
wrong train ..!! i'm home back again..
the telephone rings and i rush to the door,
i go up racing the stars and 'ddhhhaaaammm' i fall back to the back,
i wince and cry out in pain,
and hope this never happens again,
after a 'hard' day's work i go to sleep,
and sinks into my dreams deep,
the next day i get out of my bed,
only to step on a dead cockroach instead.
Copyright © Shweta S | Year Posted 2005
|
Details |
Shweta S Poem
let me give you something on this special day,
a birthday cake so lovely and sweet,
a birthday card for these moments to be cherished,
a birthday candle to grant you a wish,
and above all, all happiness and joy to be bestowed on you,
may your year be alovely beginning,
may you grow wiser by a year,
may you smile at all your joys,
may you rejoice all your tears,
may you know there are great friends like us,
who care 'bout you and treasure your friendship,
a new year begins for you as the old one ends,
wishing you a very happy birhtday,
my dearest friend.
Copyright © Shweta S | Year Posted 2005
|
Details |
Shweta S Poem
standing in the green meadows,
among the tall slender grass,
i look at the old winsmill,
its rusty blades still rotating,
brown and rusted, they stand firm,
be it summer or winter and ages to come,
what a splendid time machine,
it brings memories all long forgotten,
reminds us of our good and bad times,
time that has passed can never be bought back,
its ivory coated base, as solid as it looks,
invokes the feeling of hope even as the world ends,
tells you to move ahead,
and not to be left back,
however old and worn its blades are,
united they stand, divided they fall,
rotating from dusk to dawn,
they say, ' they show must go on' .
Copyright © Shweta S | Year Posted 2005
|
Details |
Shweta S Poem
tough times dont last, tough people do,
these words said are so wise and true,
every decision made in our lives,
moulds it in a specific manner,
sometimes right, sometimes wrong,
we all bear its consequences,
but the one who stands above the rest,
is the one who makes his decisions right,
bearing the bitter and the blatant truth,
accepting all hardships life offers,
he is a true human being,
standing as tall as a mountain,
without succumbing to the waves of temptations and desperations,
for he knows to carve his path well,
and to make a unique mark for himself,
coz one may take a shortcut to the journey,
but in the end its the journay that matters.
Copyright © Shweta S | Year Posted 2005
|