Children's Poetry Collection - 4 by Ramendra Kumar SignUp
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Children's Poetry Collection - 4
Ramendra Kumar Bookmark and Share

Presented below is a collection of poems by children that were previously published on Bolokids.com


The Apartheid by Aditi Dwivedy

I hate this time
Of being discriminated
Of being separated
Of the Apartheid

For three centuries
Three long centuries
The Whites have been here
Taking our own land from us

“Son, I need you to get milk”
My mama's voice cut through the bulls charging through my head
“Yes mama”
I reply taking my money

As I get put off my community
I see
Whites drink from beautiful luxurious water fountains
Blacks drink from dull, wooden ones

My angry thoughts come back
Like a flood
I think to myself
Why are we treated so different?
How are we different?

The doors of the store
Stare back at me
One is lavishly decorated
And one is rotting wood

The pretty door
Has a sign
Whites Only
It read
While the rotting wood
For Blacks Only
It red

Blinded by the sight
I am only seeing red
I walk through the door
For Whites

My chin is up
My chest proud
Shoulders square
Eyes forward
I look at every astonished face
In the eye

Everyone looks at me
I walk down the aisle
When a tap

You aren’t White
Says a man
You have not a single right
In any way
To go through that door
He says
I could turn you into the police

Then why don’t you
I said, looking at every purple laden White woman
Every perfectly groomed White man
Then at every
Filthy disgusting Black woman
And Black men in rags

You are lost
He says again
In his voice that rubs my skin raw
And crackles through my veins
We are going to give you a second chance
He says again

Everyone looks
And looks some more
Then turn
As though nothing had happened
I look at the dirty
Black men and woman
But their backs look back at me
In a sorrowful way

Bulls charge through my head
Storms thunder
Elephants stampede
The hungry tiger roars

I want to yell
Scream, kick, thunder
Yet all I can do
Is turn my back

Like the rest
Pretend one of the rare times
When a Black stands up for all
Never happened

As if the Apartheid
Was meant to happen
As if we truly are lower
As if we agree

My thoughts rage through me
As I pick up milk
With fists whiter than ghosts
Face redder than anger itself

Looking away
I notice outside
Through the window
On dirt, wet ground

An old newspaper
Nelson Mandela Arrested
Was front page

I think how no Black supported
My act of freedom
No Black supported
Mandela, when he went to jail

This will change
I knew
This will not go on
How long will the Apartheid last?
When in the world will people see
Blacks and Whites as equals?
When will everyone be united?


Studies by Priyadarshini Roy

Studies, Studies they are so boring,
After a while you can hear me snoring.
In my dream, I see Akbar driving a truck,
And Alexander the Great sitting on a duck;
I see Mr. Helium having fun,
Instead of working inside the sun;
I would like to tell you, in my dream,
I also see Mahatma Gandhi having ice-cream!
Suddenly I feel a slap on my cheek,
Gosh! It’s my mother!
Oh! What a bother!


Cricket by C.M. Srikrishnan

Dhoni always hit sixer
Sachin the extra score mixer .
If they do not gain good score
India feels the match a bore.

When Balaji make the batsman bowled
We will come to know everyone howled.
If our Indian players win
They will enjoy with shake of 7up tin.

No team can defeat our Indian players
Even if they work hard for many years.
Always India wins the match
By Shewag's good catch.


My School by C.M. Srikrishnan

It is build on the earth that is round
And has a spacious ground.
There are many intelligent teachers
Who teach us good features

In my school classes are there till twelfth
To study in this school we need a lot of wealth.
It is my luck to study in this school
Which makes me intelligent from a fool.

My school is surrounded by nature
And gives the students good future.
My school has good height of forts
Not only studies but also sports.


Sun Flower by C.M. Srikrishnan

It turns towards the direction of the sun
Which gives us a lot of fun.
It is the flower with good luck
You shall dare to pluck.

It has a good future
And one amongst the nature.
The flower grows on the soil
And also gives us oil.

Who ever plants the flower is a good fellow
It comes out in the color of yellow.
It has a good height
With also a good sight.


Toys by Baidehi Roy

I have a red ball
and a little doll
They both are very small
but they are my best toys after all.

I have a pet pup
short and fat
he loves to sleep
on a mat
loves to wear a hat
and runs after the fat cats.


My Frame by Avni Maheshwari

Once I was at home
I was very alone,
Suddenly a tone came
From the phone

I picked up the phone
It was my friend Pranone
She told me about a frame
Which had my name

I asked her to bring it
She bought it for me
And we had a cup of Tea!

This Is Life by Anmol Sheth

Life is good to us
But sometimes it is bad.
Life is really beautiful
But sometimes it is sad.
Life’s expressions are sweet
But sometimes they are sour.
But mostly life is full of flowers,
Sparkling friendships and many stars.


Deforestation by Atul Anurag

Cutting of trees, known as deforestation,
Is usually done for making houses and railway stations,
This reduces the quantity of oxygen in the air,
And encourages the rise of poisonous gases to be left in the air,
which is unfair!
Gases like sulphur-dioxide, carbon-monoxide and nitrogen,
are usually emitted from vehichles.
If we cut and reduce the quantity of trees,
One day due to loss of oxygen, we will surely have to die!
So certain steps should be taken by us, my fellows,
Or in future our mother earth will have to cry!


I Like Eating Ice-creams by Atul Anurag

I like eating ice-creams
Best of them is strawberry,
It fills my mind with dreams,
And my mouth with water-streams!
I eat ice-creams of different flavours,
Like strawberry, vanilla and chocolate,
But when I was enjoying butter scotch flavour,
I reached the school late!
I taste ice-creams of different companies,
Like Amul, Dinshaws and Froztee,
My friend also likes to eat ice-creams,
And his name is Muhammad Ali!


Rain by Atul Anurag

How beautiful is the rain!
It causes no pain,
It falls on the ground,
And makes some sound,
But after one day, nothing can be found!
It is a scientific process,
Which makes everything so fresh,
Ground and water in the form of evaporation,
Plants and trees in the form of transpiration,
Give their water for the process of cloud formation!
It has many benefits for the living world,
When it falls on earth, it falls like diamonds and pearls!
When the sun’s rays fall on rain drops, it looks wonderful,
Water falls in wells and makes it full,
After rain stops it forms a rainbow, which is indeed colorful!
It is a gift from God,
We say thank you O lord,
It decreases our work, we say thanks,
It cleans the roads, and fills the water tanks,
It makes the earth wet and also supplies water to the plants!
But now-a-days due to global warming and overpopulation,
There is decrease is in the percentage of cloud formation,
Therefore we should not use LPG cars
And should not pollute the air by smoking cigarettes and cigars,
We should protect the earth and preserve it as its lifetime is decreasing!


The Visit by Atul Anurag

One day, I went to my uncle’shouse,
His name is Ramendra Kumar,
On my way, I didn’t find asingle mouse,
Or rubbish like an empty foodjar!

Very clean was that area,
Without stray animals,
Sanitation was the majorcriteria,
The nature around was magical!

I opened the gate,
I rang the bell,
I had to wait,
Its tune I knew so well.

Uncle opened the door,
I wished him ‘Good Evening, how are you?’
He led me indoor,
And replied ‘I am fine, thank you!’

I saw their dog,
He was as sturdy and heavy as a log!
His name was Aryan,
I wished him ‘Hello!’

He gave a bark,
I knew he was man’s best companion!
I returned Uncle’s books,
Which I had taken to read from him,

Aryan gave me a confused look,
On T.V. there was a moviegoing on named ‘Tim’!
I asked him if I can take more books,
As my exams were over,

He suggested me to take as many books,
And keep them even if 6 months are over!
I said ‘Bye!’
And went along my way,
And recalled that all dogs wagtheir tails on seeing me,
As if they wished me ‘Hi!’


When I Die by Hyfa Koty

When I die bury me deep
Place my Math book on my hand
Tell the teacher nothing I could understand
Place my English book on my chest
Tell the teacher I'm at rest
Place my Hindi book on my thigh
Tell the teacher, the language was too high
Place my Science book on my ears
Tell the teacher, it bring our tears
And, when all the teachers begin to cry
Tell them they are the ones who made me die.


Rain by Juliana Oliveira

Umbrellas cover the sidewalk,
Washed away were drawings of chalk.
The falling water covers the town,
Oh, pitter, patter, rain falls down!
Cars beep their horns in the rushing rain,
And faces look through window panes.
A flash of lightning, thunder sounds,
Oh, pitter, patter, rain falls down!
The sky is cloudy, the sky is grey,
In the wind, trees shake and sway.
And in puddles the leaves they drown,
Oh, pitter, patter, rain falls down!


Worthwhile by Nikita Parik

If only
Our mornings could be
Spent observing
The ethereal blue
With its multiple hues

If only
Our afternoons could be
Spent guessing
The million shapes
That the clouds make

If only
Our evenings could be
Spent listening
To the summery breeze,
To the birds and bees

And if only
Our nights could be
Spent relishing
The twinkling lights
That adorn our skies

Then only
Can our existence be
Worthwhile
In its truest sense.
In its truest sense


Peace by Khadija Zaheer

I met a bird yesterday,
I called her,
I told her my name was Khadija,
She told me;

“I am the white dove,
I am the symbol of love,
I am the symbol of peace ,
But the people injured me,
My ears hear the sound of bomb blasts,
My eyes see the people dying every day,
My feet step on a barren land,
My body flies in the polluted air…

I told it was due to the terrorists,
She looked at me silently, sadly and more sadly
She continued;

I am the white dove,
I am the symbol of honesty,
I am the symbol of truthfulness,
But the people injured me,
My ears hear the poor crying,
My eyes see the people taking bribe,
My feet step on an unjust land,
My body flies in dishonest air…

I told it was due to the politicians, the judges,
She looked at me silently, sadly and more sadly
She continued;

I am the white dove,
I am the symbol of hope,
I am the symbol of patience,
But the people injured me,
My ears hear the shouts everyday,
My eyes see the people striking,
My feet step on an impatient land,
My body flies in hopeless air…

Who's the accuser I thought and thought,

The white dove said;
Now tell me either its due to terrorists,
or due to politicians,
or due to judges?
Dear me this time it’s you and only you
Yes, you the so called ‘public ,
Yes you the so called innocents,
You are responsible for this,
Hope,be patient…
This is the only advice give to you,
Or you’ll see me die one day,
She looked at me silently,sadly and …

“I promise to be patient and hope for the best,
Meanwhile why don’t you take some rest,
She replied back;


“I am the white dove,
I am the symbol of love,
I am the symbol of peace ,
I am the white dove,
I am the symbol of honesty,
I am the symbol of truthfulness,
I am the white dove,
I am the symbol of hope,
I am the symbol of patience,
I hve to go,
I have to go,
To teach the youth like you
So to enter the world of happiness…


To My Teacher by Kapil Talreja

Life's beautiful ways
How to stand your own,
In difficult days
Dearie will you ever know?
What you have made me learn!

How do I thank you!
For moments of the soul
Mirroring clarity
In your every role
For holding me when I fleer

Those effortless words
And simple joys
Like natural wonders
All wrapped within
That childlike giggle.


Poem on School Days by Roshan

How boring are schooldays
How dangerous are Mondays

Take us away from these boring books
And please teachers don't give us these angry looks

Give us our freedom
And let us live in our own Kingdom

We children love birds singing
And we love lots of dancing

We children are brave
And never be slaves

oh, teachers stop teaching
oh, teacher stop scolding


The Loveliest Day by Ikwansha Singh

The loveliest day, when we help each other
The loveliest day, when we forgive each other
The loveliest day, when we stand and fight
The loveliest day, when we make world light
The loveliest day, when we make other smile
The loveliest day, when we shine like star
The loveliest day, when we dream to be big
The loveliest day, when we try to be big
The loveliest day, when we try to touch the sky
The loveliest day, when we inspire others to fly
The loveliest day, when we encourage each other
The loveliest day, when we change each other

And the most loveliest day, when we change the world ...


Old Age by Upasana

Old age life’s unhappiest part
free from trouble though,
So much suffering in an old man’s heart
Sitting in a old age home.
They sit and sing, chat with friends,
but their heart aches for their lad,
they think, how much they suffered
to grow the sapling they had.
They still have mercy on their son,
to their homes they want to run,
but to take them home with love and care,
there is none yet none.


A Clown's Tale by Vibiesh

A clown with a gown,
Went to a town
With pride he sang,
'I have wings'.
He smiled and smiled,
As a small child,
He tried to fly,
But never went high.

He heaved a long sigh,
And looked at the sky,
"Why? why? why?
Why can't I fly?"
He tried and tried,
And lost his pride
"Why can't I fly?"
He never knew why...


A Cricket Matchby Vibiesh

One more ball remaining,
And two more runs to win.
The home side awaiting,
For their side to win.

Nine wickets have fallen,
And one more for heaven.
The opponents may win,
Or the home side may win.

"Now let's see the next ball",
Said a few of them all.
The bowler balls the ball,
The batsman hits the ball.

One run creeps to the score,
But they needed one more.
"One more run" was the shout,
But one got run out.

"The match is now a tie",
Said the umpire pitch high.
No one did win the match,
But there were heads to scratch.


The Girl Childby Amita Sinha

Oh! All the excitement has ceased
A girl has been born again�
The mother looks lovingly
at the infant's face
but the father is very angry.
The mother in law makes a face
while the sister in law talks wickedly,
How dare she produced a girl child again
when she has one silly daughter already!!
There is hush hush among the relatives,
no rejoicing among the family.
The neighbors don�t come to visit,
At home all is quiet and sundry.
Only the new mother is happy,
her heart is full of music
She knows she will be treated unkindly
but can't help feeling brightly.


Hero by Abhay Kumar

A hero is always at odds
With the existing norms
He meets resistance at every step
Is persecuted
Then sacrificed
At the altars of the norms

A hero is for a change
For he understands
The weakness of the present
He brings a new wave
At the expense of his life
For a tomorrow better than today

A hero is in you and me
Only if we pay heed and
Listen to our inner voice indeed
If we do not give in
To the temptations of little comfort
Every moment at every step we meet

A hero is immortal
He lives through the ages
Because he stands for a cause while
Others live in a world of little comforts
Without raging against the dying of the light
And disappear in thin air without giving a fight


It's Never Too Late to Try Againby Abhay Kumar

It’s never too late
To smile to a stranger
To take a walk by the river
To travel to a distant land
It's never too late
To learn something new
To read a book
To make a new friend
It’s never too late
To hold hands
To buy a flower for someone
To fall in love
It’s never too late
To forgive them all
To forget the bitter past
To start once again
It’s never too late
To have a hearty laugh
To cry like a child
To sing a hearty song
It’s never too late
To pen down a poem
To remember old friends
To be kind to the less fortunate
It’s never too late
To look at the stars
To say a prayer
To dream a dream
It’s never too late
To play a game
To watch the sunset
To try a new music instrument
It’s never too late
To try again


The Child Within Meby Abhay Kumar

Child you are free to cry
While my tears inside dry
Sweet mama is always there for you
Day and night taking care of you
To make your every wish come true
To give you a future trouble free
Your every wish is met with affection
You are the centre of family' s attention
I was once a child like you but no more
People say I have grown
Though inside me still a child lives
Craving for love, attention and empathy
There are times like you I would cry
But I hold back
And let my tears inside dry
Because people say adults don't cry
Child you do not know
How blessed you are
No loneliness no job-worries
No masters you have nothing to prove
No religion no politics
No country no caste
Not even humanity
Child within me seeks this bliss
Alas I look grown up and
No one sees
The child within me


Un-appreciated Gift by Siya Singh

as i looked out my window today
i realized the weekend is here
its saturday

exited i jumped of the bed
and went out to see
the rose bushes red

i saw the care free birds chirp
the tree was beautiful
on which they perched

the sun was bright
but i couldn't look at it right?
as i didn't want to loose my sight

then the gardener nearby said being kind
some get a choice
some are born blind

those lines have now been engraved in my mind
and now i finally
appreciate the light

they face hardships every day
they battle with the dark
at night and day

they don't get to feel the joy
of looking at this beautiful
filled with girls and boys

i wrote this poem to make you aware
there are many people with harder problems
and like you don't make faces or glare

my weekend just got a whole lot brighter
for i have eyes to see
enjoying these pleasures the way it should be.

====

Tutorials by Siba Smarak Panigrahi

Now it is the time to rejoice (?),
For going to the first tutorial class of your choice (?),
Thinking what fun would you make,
Not knowing what BUN you will cake.

Just going and using (wasting ?)your time,
For frying your brain with numbers prime,
You would be surprised to know,
What lies behind your eyebrow.

You would not like to come,
From the center where knowledge flow (?),
But the thing you actually know,
The ENGINEERs' or DOCTORs' future show.

Awake but still asleep'
Not knowing when you'd hike the cliff ;
Thinking points on a debate,
But, forced to study the properties of state.

When coming back to the house,
You will just feel like a fed-up mouse;
Lost in the largest maze,
And your brain in a craze.


Piggies in my Backyard by Sucharita Dutta-Asane

Little piggy brother
Grunted up a lather
when he found the drains so clean;
he looked in the gutter
And saw the lack of clutter
Where food had so long been.

The men came and sprayed
Water in the drains
To obey their masters above
And the pigs went on a fast
And kicked up a fuss
at the awful lot of bother.

They ran on the streets
And dodged the traffic
That wouldn't care for their squeals.
They waddled into gardens and
Trampled the flowers
in search of their daily meals.

The women ran out with sticks and shouts
To shoo away the dirty dozen;
The children ran amok
And shrieked in shock
At the sight of the motley walk-in.

The cleaners moved in
With their war machinery
And drove away the sty-on-the-move.
The piggies, they halted
Midway to defeat
And rounded up on the guarded drove.

Where do we go for our daily ration?
They grunted in unison, one and all.
Where do we live, for our food and our home-
they asked of the armed battalion.
The crew, they were baffled, to see the animals speak-
They who had never spoken.


Splash by Shubhoshree Mitra

Spring is a splash of colors
Of beautiful and fresh flowers
Blue, yellow and red
Orange , purple, violet
When I see their colors like fire and gold
I fold my hands and pray to you Dear God.


Dinosaur - Acrostic poem by Hari Parasu

Deinonychus hunted in packs.
Ichthyosaurus lived in the sea.
Nothosaurus looked like meat-eater and plant eater.
Ouranosaurus had a sail to keep from overheating.
Supersaurus was huge.
Allosaurus lived in the jungle.
Utahraptor had switchblade knife like claws.
Raptors lived in packs.


Surprises by Pankti Ashar

I love surprises.
To me, surprises are treasured prizes.
Sudden surprises daze me,
Beautiful surprises amaze me.

Sometimes I get surprises that I don’t want,
But can I refuse them? No, I can’t.
Surprises can be anything,
I guess what surprise my mom will bring.

A bouncy little basketball?
Or a cute and sweet Barbie doll?
Or a chest full of books to read?
Oh! I love such surprises, Indeed!


The Drongo and Me by Usha Chandrasekharan

The drongo flew in onto his perch
And looked at me on mine.
His scissored tail and satin coat
Mirrored the glorious sunshine.

Both in pensive mood,
His slanted head seemed to say
I'm busy with my own work
You don't seem the same way!!

Ah! Free bird I told myself.
Free to soar away
No cares to burden your soul,
No worries to cloud up your day

Free bird? I heard him then
I am not free at all,
Life is a constant battle of wits,
To keep me from the fall.

Please excuse me dear, I have work to do,
I'm on the lookout for the thieving crow.
My babies are small and weak,
They need to be protected from that cunning foe.

I'm not a lotus eater like you,
No time to stop and stare.
To tarry here and talk to you,
I'm sure I do not dare!!


The Raindrops by Usha Chandrasekharan

Do you know, the raindrops when they fall,
Sound different on different surfaces?
The fiber glass sheet over the car shed
Receives a more than thunderous tread.

When the falling drops stop to rest,
Above the dark green rain-bent trees,
It courses a languorous, drip drop on
The expectant cluster of leaves.

The sun scorched mud tiles absorb
The rainy wetness and gently let them go
On the harsh tarmac that has just stung my sole
It pitter patters in a scolding flow.

Slap, slap, slap say the Hawaii slippers,
On the plantain leaves the sound is loud
The birdie's nest gets a dew drop drop,
The tin roof on the kitchen does itself proud

On the mosaic of the open porch, it falls
Like sharp icicles making a statement
Before running to puddles at the steps
And trickling slowly into the basement.


Myself by Mishika Chowdhary

My name is Mishika,
I go to Vasant Valley School,
I study in eight standard,
which I think is very cool!
I like to play sports,
and I love to sing,
studies, oh my god!
is not my thing!!
I live with my mum and my dad,
my eating habits they say, is very bad.
Milk and fruits is what I should eat,
but Maggie and Coke is what I consider a treat.
What do I want to be when I grow up?
Is the question which I often ask,
a doctor, an engineer?
That would be a difficult task.
I have to be Famous,
I often say aloud
whatever I do
I will make my parents proud!


Oh! My Beautiful Garbage Can! by Mishika Chowdhary

Oh! My beautiful garbage can,
I am your biggest fan,
You take with you all the
Mess rot and dirt around,
And make the environment
Safe and sound.

I create garbage with,
Pencil shaping's, bits of paper
Vegetable peels etc etc all day long,
And dump them in you
As if to you they belong.

You make no cry,
You don't complain
You are my best friend through
Summer, winter and rain

I shudder to think of a life without you,
Garbage everywhere and smell of a loo,

Thank you so much to keep my life
Clean and healthy in so many ways

In return I promise to keep you,
Clean and odor free always…


Food by Anindita Guha

Food is nutritious
Food is delicious
Food is healthy
Food is wealthy.

If you eat too much of fats
You may lead to obesity,
And if you think so much
You may lead to curiosity,
So, my friend, don't be so curious,
Because, food is nutritious.


Jewels by Anindita Guha

Jewels! Jewels! Jewels!
Oh! you are great.
You always pull my eyes towards you.
You are so great!
You are shiny.
You are always gifted to a girl on a date!
Oh, jewels you are straight, round and square.
Thick, thin and flattened.
But much, much more than a taxi fare!
You are the shiniest thing in the world.
Oh ! Jewels you are simply great.


Mathematics by Anindita Guha

Mathematics is the study of numbers.
There is Mathematics everywhere.
Brackets and sums,
And you can also count cucumbers.
Mathematics has signs and symbols,
And constants and variables.
And you can also draw
A 360 degree angle.


The Honeybee by Xana J.

One, two, three
here comes the bee,
the honeybee

She flies quick
she flies in circles
if I did so, I'd got sick

But not the bee,
to this, she is used
she even seems amused

She reaches the flower;
watch her moving,
working hard and fast

With all her power
she gets out the pollen
Wait she's finished!

Three, two, one
her work is done


Seasons by Pratyasha Panigrahi

There are five seasons,
That come in different fashions.
Each wear a long cloak,
Which, once in a year, create their havoc.

First comes the summer scorching,
Her cloak has the yellow sun dangling.
On our body brightly it dazzles,
With so much of sweaty hassles!

Next comes the wetty rain;
Pitter-patter goes down the window pane.
She wears her cloak dark blue,
With lightnings and thunders that woo!

Then then comes the winter white.
That's the weather too calm and quiet!
Only lie beneath the blanket,
Only lie beside the fire;
To make a frosty is the children's desire.

Golden fruits come golden fruits'
Autumn has come with golden fruits.
Golden is her gown.
All the leaves have fallen down.

Green is spreading,
Spring is coming.
Everywhere there are nuances of green,
Joy in every heart is seen.
Oh! She is every season's queen.

Through the whole year I just wait for spring,
Till I hear the cuckoo's ring,
And other birds sing sing sing.
And other birds sing sing sing.
And other birds sing sing sing.


My Family by Pratyasha Panigrahi

I heartily love my family,
Where, I live most happily.
My family is the only place,
Where I feel most comforted.
They have such a strong power
For getting all my problems resolved.

First, we have our best-loving caretaker,
She is our beloved marvellous mother.
Such a large heart for us,
Filled with compassion, contains in her!

Next is my strict, but funny father,
Always ordering us to follow strict rules rather.
Yet, he has much care for us in his heart,
Though, in our family he’s a total autocrat.

And we children are flowers in our house.
Fire of family sorrow or anger we do douse.

I sometimes think my brother is a blessing for me,
But when we both start fighting,
I think, “What a nuisance is he!”.
Yet, we both love each other,
Can’t break our bond, it may be whosoever.
Wonder! I’m the smallest of all.
Everyone refers me to be a cute little doll.
And I consider my family to be a heaven great,
No one can break our bond at any rate.


A Letter to a Friend in Mauritius by Pratyasha Panigrahi

Life is just like that,
Many friends will come and go.
But true friends win our heart
A seed of love do they sow.

Friends may be near or distant,
Their homes may be far away...
But their love for us remains vigilant,
And they remember us everyday!

Best friends are always heart soothing,
Similar is the friendship between you and me.
Angels of love bring me a friendship wing;
To you, in my dreams, I do see!

Missing you a lot, my friend,
Due to the distance between us...!
From India, I am sending you this letter,
To you in Mauritius.


Birds by Himanshu Nibha Kunwar

Birds can go any where, any place
But, we need visa and tickets
Birds are free to go
Any where on the earth
We are not birds
We can't just fly
And go any where
We need a plane
I wish I were a bird
Could you please tell me
Why we can't be birds?
Why we can’t be free?


Candle by Himanshu Nibha Kunwar

When the night comes
My mom lights a candle in front of me.
I keep on watching.
Slowly it melts….
It gets brighter and brighter.
Finally there is no candle in front of me
I can only see the candle wax
I wonder where the light goes?


Chairs by Himanshu Nibha Kunwar

Both good and bad people sit on the chair
But chairs can't tell
Who they want on them and whom they do not
They don’t even have a mouth
But I think chairs can feel
They can see people doing bad and good things
But they can’t speak,
They are just a silent witness.


To Be Somebody by Desiress

He was standing nowhere,
How could he ever reach there?
He was all alone and no one seemed to care,
He felt- life to him wasn’t at all fair.
He always ended up from where he began.
He doesn’t want to do it even if he can,
He asks himself would he escape if he ran,
But they say face the world be a man.

So many goals to achieve, so many aims,
But now he knows all that matters is success and fame,
Now its the time for him to learn to play the life’s game.
When something goes wrong have someone else to blame.
What did this cold world make of that innocent heart,
He couldn’t turn back, no hope for a new start,
He could betray people, it became his art,
He did not think he was wrong on his part....


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12/01/2019
More by :  Ramendra Kumar
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