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I am Good.

I am good they say, I do not know why.

May be because I am polite when we meet, when we talk.

May be I am good because I am not rude,
May be I am good because I do as I am told.

But I can look straight at your eyes
And speak direct to your soul.
I am good then.
I am good when I do good,
When I compete with you with nothing to lose.
I am good when I extend my hand
For help and to help.

You are good when you extend your hand too.

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Poem To A Poem

I love thee, and thou knows’t it not,

Thou knows’t not how I worship thee;

I live in thee -my every thought

Has been, is and shall be of thee.”

                                            -Michael Madhusudan Dutta

You do not know what I hold at depths of my heart,

You do not know what I hold at the depths of my soul.

You do not know what is hidden between the lines,

I smile at your thoughts but you do not know.

I love thee but thou knows’t it not.

You do not know the reason for my tears,

You do not know that you are the reason for my joy.

You do not know how I miss you,

You do not know how I need you.

Thou knows’t not how I worship thee.

My every wait has been for you,

My every prayer has been for you.

My every breath, every heart beat,

Every step has your name written on it,

I live in thee- my every thought Has been,is and shall be of thee.

Broken Tooth

By My friend

Recently some of my friends opened up this blog to jot down some daily happening, poems, stories etc which are real. 

If you have time open this link up. Till now there’s only one post but soon hoping it skyrockets.

THE CHARIOTEER

There was once a race, a chariot race

Deadly as a person could ever imagine.

It was ferocious but brilliant,

It was the battle of the bests.

 

But there was one charioteer with full glory

He was never seen before,nor he was like those who were seen.

His eyes shone with pride and humility

His voice echoed his thirst to win.

He was more glorious than words could ever describe.

He was the forerunner,and the crowd referred him as the best of the bests.

 

Then he fell,he fell off his chariot,

Heart stopped not his but of the crowd’s.

He was on the hot sand , lying, bleeding.

The hero had fallen.

 

The crowd unknowingly shed tears for their hero.

But the fallen hero had to rise,and

He did. His ambitious eyes opened and the crowd cheered.

The charioteer than rode his one horsed chariot

To the finish line as a winner.

 

The charioteer was never seen after

But the people realized the message.

They were all the actual heroes,

Helplessly bleeding on the barren field.

And it was their chance to open their eyes

And ride their way as winners to the finish line.

 

FORGIVE ME

Look  into my eyes and you’ll see a butcher,

Search my heart and you’ll find a murderer , a killer.

Could you forgive me for the monster I’ve become?

Could you forgive me for I’ve killed a soul?

Could you forgive me once more?

 

You say I am your idol.

You say my words inspire you.

Look at my smile , it is a smile of a stealth cheater.

I am not the person you once knew,

I am an assassin. I’ve killed your innocent trust.

Could you look into my eyes and say you forgive me?

So  that I can die peacefully.

 

There was once a time I couldn’t stay away from you.

Now all I want is be away, far away from you

Not that I don’t love you anymore,

I can’t face you anymore.

 

Please forgive me so that I could die peacefully.

 

UNTOLD STORIES

I wrote this poem for my school’s annual magazine.

Poetry by The Charioteer

 

Look around, there are stories everywhere

Stories that need to be told

Stories that need to be seen.

Stories about love, stories about gain,

Stories about tragedy, stories about pain.

 

Somewhere in the corner a poet is

Writing poems about his dead daughter.

A little girl is exchanging her candies for flowers

To give to her father who will go to the war.

 

A socially isolated man is screaming

That  his glorious past is unseen.

And a blind man is imagining the colours

He has never seen.

 

The most famous surgeon of the town

Was not always famous.

And the singer of yester years

Is no more famous.

 

A millionaire is turned into beggar

And a beggar into millionaire.

A teenager is teaching the poor

After her hectic routine at the school.

 

While we are searching for a single inspiration.

Thousands of stories are…

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UNTOLD STORIES

 

Look around, there are stories everywhere

Stories that need to be told

Stories that need to be seen.

Stories about love, stories about gain,

Stories about tragedy, stories about pain.

 

Somewhere in the corner a poet is

Writing poems about his dead daughter.

A little girl is exchanging her candies for flowers

To give to her father who will go to the war.

 

A socially isolated man is screaming

That  his glorious past is unseen.

And a blind man is imagining the colours

He has never seen.

 

The most famous surgeon of the town

Was not always famous.

And the singer of yester years

Is no more famous.

 

A millionaire is turned into beggar

And a beggar into millionaire.

A teenager is teaching the poor

After her hectic routine at the school.

 

While we are searching for a single inspiration.

Thousands of stories are untold

Unnamed heroes live among us

The stories are yet to be told.

The truth is yet to be spoken.

 

Stand awhile, close your eyes

Listen to those untold stories

They are being narrated

By the gossipy wind that passes by.

Just pen them down

And it will be a work of art.

 

 

(I wrote this poem for my school magazine)