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poetry
poetrywordsworth waiting|
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| And the highwayman came running in his white horse |
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| Now there is a poem to soothen your heart. As a child I was laid in a wooden cot. Separated by the dolls standing before the wooden border. At four I was weak. My brother formed a wall. He protected me, he guarded me. In my adolescence I formed a wall, Separating myself from my elders - my mother, my father. At seventeen educated, informed. Looked out of my own world, at the strange world that surrounded me. Walls had an even greater significance. Walls separated me, my country from others like me, like my country. At seventy tired, weary and ill I set to see the final wall, The wall separating me from heaven which I am About to cross. Sagnik Sinha Wanna submit your own poem. Mail us at forelite@rediffmail.com |
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