Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Your high(headed)ness

I just cannot see your point of view
Your words are like the grains of sand
Good points in them are but few

You talk of the time that you were young
You talk of the times when you went numb
You talk of the time your dog died
Still smell the aroma of the first fish you fried

You say you know that He is right
If I say no, you’re ready to fight
You claimed to have seen their miseries and plight
You wanted to help; they just wouldn’t follow the light

You claimed you know your inner self
You’ve traveled the road from heaven to hell
Enlightened; when you lost that friend
But still revel in the glitz of brands

I hate you not, I don’t like you either
In you I see my own reflection
Just like you, my words are heavy
My works, light as feather

Let us both stand in front of the mirror
Let us try to open our closed eyes
Who are we?
Can we ever see the truth
a bit more clearer?

3 comments:

Pooja Vashisht said...

Prolific prose, now poetry too
Any "wit" way, words hum with you!

Keep up this rare tuning of thoughts, words and timing.

jesse said...

LOLZ!!! I have the capability to generate tons of crappy poetry! I never put it up because it's way too sub-standard.

Niha Redhu said...

Dude your self proclaimed 'sub standard' is higher than what most of us foolishly showoff around as our best!! So hell with any restraint and carry on with your prose! :)