Just like a butterfly is twisted within the cocoon,
And the roots muddled close to moist soil,
And the sun basks in the moonlight,
And my untamed morning hair,
You are tangled, within me.
When you help them build stairs to the moon,
And you think you all are going together and reach up soon.
But you forget one important thing,
The wooden staircase could take only one person at a time.
So they climb up, leaving you behind.
You thought we’ll all stand together, once we reach.
But a lesson did they teach?
But momma said always help people, be kind and generous,
Don’t say I, but worry about the ‘Us’.
But momma didn’t know that people no longer care,
They get what what they want, and do not do fair.
They forget your help or the days they needed you,
The one who made the stairs and was left behind by you.
I laugh in despair, that momma when they had reached up,
At least they didn’t break the stairs,
I should have believed they never cared.
But momma you never told me that I had to be little selfish,
All I did was share and share until things got finished.
I should have kept some things for myself in this world,
Days after days things got more swirled.
I got infuriated by all this muddle,
I was left alone, with no one to cuddle.
I cried, I shouted, I screamed.
For God, what bad have I done,
that I could not get to my dream.
I vowed to not help people anymore,
Not be kind or generous, or helping a sore.
I saw the world through a broken glass,
I was drawing myself away from the mean class.
But deep in my heart, I believed,
That the one who’s the strongest, and kindest,
Then success, happiness all you achieve!
I knew how to build those stairs, so I did it again,
I learnt from experience, I grew from that pain.
I reached even higher than they can imagine ever,
And they were back in news telling me clever.
Oh fools, I thought, what have you done,
You never knew there’s a difference between a planet and the sun!
But one thing all we must learn from now,
Look for real people, because it’s a fake town.
Share only with those who’re worthy of that gift,
The people, who are there and never split.
And you need to give yourself, is your help first,
So that you climb up the moon, with the stairs you trust.
Be kind, sincere and fearless,
Because you’re special, and you’re no less!
Hey guys, I’ve written this poem on my personal experience, it’s straight from the heart, and it’s my present story, if you liked it,share and help spread the word, thanks!
Summer is here again. Summer, summer, summer! Who doesn’t love summers?
Summers have a logic of their own and they always brought something out in you. Summer was supposed to be about freedom, fun, adventure and leisure. What’s good about summer is it’s warmth , but one can never realize it without the cold of the winter. If we never had winters, summers would just be an illusion like the moon lady’s love. Or when you are too tired to carry on, summer’s sunshine bring life to earth. Sun is the best thing to happen to earth I must say.
All this time
The Sun never says to the Earth,
“You owe me.”
With a love like that,
It lights the whole sky.”
One always remembers one of those summers which, in a fortunate combination of delightful weather, delightful friends and delightful doing, come as near to perfection as anything can come in this world.
So summers is a book of hope. Each day we had more light to read by. Summers makes one want to believe. But hope is dangerous thing my friends, it can drive one crazy. But faith is sweet, as sweet as the first summer rain.
And so with the sunshine and the blue sky, and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, butterflies and chirping birdies, and the breeze, I believe life was beginning over and over again with the summer.
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