Searching through my stack of poetry is heck of a job. The poetry bug bit me during my college days, trying my hands on some old style rhyme n’ rhythm pieces before I ventured out for something more different. These days, writing a poem is just about impossible for me. Not because I’ve lost touch with them for a long time, but the situation needed for me to concentrate and finally find a thing or two to write doesn’t usually end in a poetic way.
This is one of the precious little poems I found. Looking back at that time, I can find out what state of mind was dominating me.
And it wasn’t pretty.
Inch towards Freedom, 11th July, 2008
An inch or two remains
Between reality and dreams eternal.
The slight gap between the hard truths
And the soothing never land.
The blood gushing through the heart
Tries to find a slit to come out.
Darkness inside, too gashes its way
To unite with dark outside.
Why’d this be an act of cowardice?
If satisfaction’s what I’m going to get?
Unifying my dreams and reality
To be free, forever.
An inch or two remains,
Between the blade, and my vein.
An inch towards an act of cowardice
Or my eternal freedom.