Saturday, August 2, 2014

The fall

If you have fallen
You can sure stand again
For one who has not fallen ever
 for sure is not standing
So never fear the fall
For if child had fear of fall
Man wouldn’t have walked at all

Good and Bad

The good is all lit and bright
Is seen by all and loved by all
Yet somewhere in the corner
There is always a wee bit of darkness
Where it wants to hide
And loose itself once in a while
The bad is all dark and gloomy
It’s unseen, unknown and feared by all
Yet somewhere deep within
There is always a wee bit of light
Where it wants to go
And discover itself once in a while

Dreams 4

There is no dearth of dreams
For everyone dreams of success
Of money and fame that it brings
Of happiness and tears of joy
Some can feel it and taste it
See themselves standing on the podium
 Crossing the line tearing the ribbon
They can hear the crowd cheering their name
Yet most don’t even start their race
For they are lost in the mirage of their dreams
Dreams u see, are reflections
Very much so, of a very possible future
Yet, like all reflections, they are inversed
What comes last is seen the first
While most see success right in front
They fail to see the toil and sweat
 The innumerable failures and falls
The treacherous path that follows behind
To the far end of their dreams



What is right

Most men know what is right
They have it right in their sight
It’s seldom ignorance that takes them astray
But an easier wrong that has its sway
Men stagger more on shiny days
Than loose their way
On pitch dark nights
For most men know what is right
Even when it is out of their sight

Habits

We are not the product
But additions of our actions
And the small ones that we call habits
Often add up more and beyond
Most monumental of our efforts

Tomorrow


Learn to dream
Yet not be consumed by them
Let them fire up your heart
Yet, let it not burn your soul
Tomorrow may be the day
When your dreams would hatch
But it’s always today
Where it is conceived

Faith

Can you take the leap of faith?
Jump off a cliff hoping,
That you would indeed grow wings;
There is then a chance my friend,
That you may fly,
Before you fall and die.

Content

It’s only in pain,
That I find my voice
I can either be a man of content
Or a poet of lament
Irony yet
It’s only in my writing
I find content