THis is one of the poems that had me deeply involved on a personal and emotional level.
Like a cigarette that burns and smokes
Not only itself but the smoker
And a few innocents if he’s careless enough
It burns me from the inside
Slowly but surely.
Some times pushing, some times depressing
To see that how
I’ve let the proverbial sins take over.
Everything comes at a price,
Nothing is free.
Imagine a personal hell
Far different from what you’re told about.
The pain not physical
Yet almost unbearable.
Some say it’s because I’ve fallen
While others say that
I chose to be where I am
While the rest of the world rose.
Imagine a thousand seeds,
All throbbing inside you
And then bursting together
Taking you wave by wave.
I hope that this is the last one,
And one seed finds the audacity to stay
Ands start all over again.
I bow down, fold my hands and pray,
Hope that I find the strength,
That this is the last stretch
And I don’t end up starting all over again.
It’s my personal hell,
I am praying for deliverance
And hope that this little stretch
Finally comes to an end.
One thought on “Poem : That little stretch”
Beautiful…Probably for the first time I’ve come across a poem, where an author confesses some mistake.Lovely.You may check out snapshots under the right hand side offshoots column of my blog. consists of some personal photography collection.