Sunday, August 4, 2013

Of Different Strokes in Life

This is the story of a guy who was a jolly go happy, fun loving, living his own moments, sentiments, with high sense of self-discipline, god fearing, having esteem respect for elders, for they may be relatives or outsiders.  He took no chances in life, believed more in hard work and little in luck or favours.  Always giving the best in every walk of his life.  Took duty as responsibility and lived with a smile, as thy hate conflicts in life.   

If you get a feel, how metaphysical a life it was, hold your breath, you are mistaken, because it was only good when he was still a bud to himself. 

 It pains to pen, it pains to pen, but life is good, when you are only a bud.

                                As life begins to bloom,
                                spouse giggles to gloom,
                                Imagine, thy fate begins to doom.          

                Pigs too will have their petals open,
                As they turn old, life begotten
                Imagine, thy dreams forgotten.
                                When your own petals cry foul,
                                And spouse stir the upset soul,
                                Imagine, thy life with upside down goal.

                Accepting people as they are is greatest noble,
                wanting them as you need is ignoble,
                Imagine, thy life’s like reading before deaf a bible.  
                               As your own family distance they keep,
                               in peace let one poor poet sleep,
                               Imagine, thy never made a single bleep.
                Don’t be surprised, if you find my epitaph says to end all frays,
                “Patience is the garden where hope cultivates faith and love thrives on peace”
                Alas, its only a tombstone that says so not the people around in grace.

For its dawn of thy life’s fret,
                          Ha ha, as you learnt that “death begins with life’s first breath”,
                        Imagine, "life begins at the touch of death".

                It pains to pen, it pains to pen, but life is good, when you are a bud.

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