100% FREE ONLINE DATING
sponsored links
| Topic: street | |
|---|---|
|
|
|
why is there always so much crowd in my street,
why is everyone so much distraught in my street, the country's getting drowned, loosing breath each day the people still won't stop the onslaught in my street.... every day i see all these, worth less kings and queens, trying to waste time and energy, pursuing strange requiems, all that every one will do is blurt some filth or pursue some innate dream, every day the life seems more distort in my street... who was born and who did die, with whom will whose happiness fly, inspite of all averments, what they'd really do, they'd never confide, no track of who went out and who came in the game, just millions helpless lives,lying untouched in my street.... devils are the only gods here, to be human is a curse, the moment u try following an ideology, even the clan is full of remorse, they say the world isn't for idiots but for wise, and don't fall but instead rise, but then why does everyone looks in hell in my street... they always followed Gandhi, but only in words not in deeds, his acts and gospels were made an wasteful creed, the day they got the cherished chair, charred him openly for their never ending greed, the only work father of nation is left with, is to sit on notes in my street i am not some rushdie nor his mate, neither a guevara trying to change his fate, i have only two hands , working all day to live in a world of lust, greed and hate, i am just nameless watcher sitting on a bench in my street... |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Cool write..If our countries fixed their own backyards first, rather then try to intrude on others backyards, perhaps it would make the change that is needed in this world..Who knows..
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Welcome to Mingle!...The next time someone complains to me about America I will say to them...."Read Serendipity's poem, it's called "Street" and it is beautiful."
Thank you for sharing... 
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
why is there always so much crowd in my street, why is everyone so much distraught in my street, the country's getting drowned, loosing breath each day the people still won't stop the onslaught in my street.... every day i see all these, worth less kings and queens, trying to waste time and energy, pursuing strange requiems, all that every one will do is blurt some filth or pursue some innate dream, every day the life seems more distort in my street... who was born and who did die, with whom will whose happiness fly, inspite of all averments, what they'd really do, they'd never confide, no track of who went out and who came in the game, just millions helpless lives,lying untouched in my street.... devils are the only gods here, to be human is a curse, the moment u try following an ideology, even the clan is full of remorse, they say the world isn't for idiots but for wise, and don't fall but instead rise, but then why does everyone looks in hell in my street... they always followed Gandhi, but only in words not in deeds, his acts and gospels were made an wasteful creed, the day they got the cherished chair, charred him openly for their never ending greed, the only work father of nation is left with, is to sit on notes in my street i am not some rushdie nor his mate, neither a guevara trying to change his fate, i have only two hands , working all day to live in a world of lust, greed and hate, i am just nameless watcher sitting on a bench in my street... Nice write . . . and welcome |
|
|
|
|
