In the tussle of life
In trying to be
A nature human, rife
Unlike birds flying free
As I sit back
Write my note down
It isn’t about what I lack
Though I may frown
Moments for me to reflect
On why we crave or cry
Why we kill or neglect
Or nonchalantly live by
In the need of hour
We try to prove
Or wield power
Pain, neither can remove
In the time of trial
We want to gain
With an eye for marginal
Energies we drain
In the struggle
Between gender and age
Multiple worlds we straddle
Yet lose our courage
In trying to force
Our inhuman thought
It hits hard on our toes
Bringing all goodness to a naught
With a past as a thorn
Life’s plant grows to a tree
The mind remains closed as an unborn
With no more an urge to see
© Venkat
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Posted on September 7, 2013 at 6:09 PM in Poetry, Venkat | RSS feed
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